So You Want to be a Cop
by N-I-N-T
Summary: On his twenty-first birthday, Ash graduated from the police academy. Now a detective for the Kanto City Police Department, he faces his greatest challenges yet: a temperamental partner and a mysterious serial killer. AU Pokeshipping.
1. Chapter 1

So, You Want to be a Cop

 **Pairing:** Pokeshipping, Rocketshipping, partial Ikarishipping

 **Rating:** T

 **Genre:** Romance/Mystery

 **Sub-genre:** Drama/Adventure

 **Summary:** On his twenty-first birthday, Ash graduated from the police academy. Now a detective for the Kanto City police department, he faces his greatest challenges yet: a temperamental partner and a mysterious serial killer. AU

 **XOX**

 _Today_ Ash Ketchum was turning twenty-one.

The birds were singing outside of his window, his golden retriever, pikachu, was laying placidly below his dresser, watching Ash with dopey, brown eyes. His hair was combed back, and his pristine, academy blues were traded for a pair of black slacks, and a white button up shirt, with light blue, vertical stripes. With an exuberant grin, he buttoned the cuffs, straightened his collar, and flicked his hand through his combed hair just a bit at the front, to keep a boyish spike.

After three years of desk work, playing coffee-gatherer and traffic cop, he was _finally_ being transferred to the Kanto City Police Department, title: Ash Ketchum, KCPD Detective. Years at the police academy were finally paying off—all the hard work, sweat and tears finally came to a head when he received his promotion from Pallet Farms traffic cop, to detective.

To say he was excited would have been an understatement. He was ecstatic _,_ hardly able to contain his voluptuous joy with shaking hands and chattering teeth. Ash wanted to jump, but his mother was still asleep at a quarter to seven, and he _did not_ want to disturb her. After all, his mother probably had a huge day planned for him—a large party to celebrate his new position when he came back home at approximately five o'clock.

Blowing out a sigh, he chomped down on his bottom lip to contain a cry of joy. _It didn't get any better than this!_ Arms thrown up in every direction as he stretched eagerly, imagining what his first day would look like. A traffic chase? Maybe a drug laundering scam—oh! Maybe a homicide!

Grabbing his tan, iron pressed jacket, he slipped it over his blouse, and under his white collar before rubbing Pikachu's head happily, and patting him several times.

"Wish me luck on my first day, buddy!" he said in a sing-song tone before thudding out of his room, jingling his car keys.

 **XOXs**

Ash did not drive a fancy vehicle, after paying for the academy out of pocket and working a part time job while attending the rigorous twelve hour days of the academy, his mother's living wage barely put food on the table. Instead, Ash opted for a _beater_. A small rust bucket of bolts and home-made repairs. He drove into his place of work with a loud, environmentally unclean and ill-maintained twenty year old truck he paid three hundred dollars for his senior year of high school.

Occasionally the driver door would stick, the lights would stay on, the battery would die—but for the most part, it was as reliable as any new vehicle, and Ash never felt bad if something happened to it. That one time someone backed into it in a parking lot, leaving a large dent in the passenger door? With a truck like this, the dent might have been an improvement.

In a parking lot full of well-waxed and buffed sports cars and SUV's, Ash might have paused in awe at the social class difference, if he had not already been accustomed to being _'that poor kid on the block'_ since he was six. Even still, one car in particular, a gleaming, red, 2014 Corvette caught the corner of his eye. Someone with _that_ vehicle had to have a lot of money—and, it seemed _very_ familiar. Ash hesitated outside for a few minutes to gaze upon its glory with a tilt of his head. The weather was perfect for the twenty second of May, and as he approached the steps with a glowing grin, he brushed the image of the Corvette out of his mind. Who ever the vehicle belonged to could not rain on his parade today!

Determined not to be late on his first day, he put the thought out of his mind as he gait up the stairs to the front of the building, tugged open the large, metal doors, and took in the heavenly scent of paperwork and copy machines. The way the receptionist glared at him, the curve of the black and white tile floors, and the cold embrace of a working air conditoner.

For the next ten years, this would be his home.

Happily, Ash kicked off from the front entrance, being sure to wave to the front desk clerks, greet his former-fellow desk jockeys—compliment the guy running after the coffee. Having been the underdog himself, he knew what a small gesture could represent in the ways of changing n individual's day. His cheery, contagious attitude walked him through the front lobby, the public restroom, the staff lounge, until he finally approached the section of the department that would encase his entire life: The Criminal Investigation wing.

Inhaling, Ash stepped through the open doors, barely containing his excitement. _Really_ , there wasn't a _wing_ that separated the detectives from the regular cops—but it certainly felt like it. Stepping into the area with the perfectly lined cubical and desks felt like walking into a library for the first time. Everyone was hard at work with something, and here Ash was, _apart of it_.

Soon, he would be the greatest detective that Kanto ever saw!

"Oh," A snide, jarring voice pulled Ash from his thoughts, and he turned ever slowly at the owner of said voice, and his joyous mood slowly deteriorated one footfall at a time.

"Well, it looks like Ashy-boy finally graduated from traffic cop after all. Congratulations." The young man hissed. The auburn haired police officer—no, detective looked as sarcastic as he sounded. Dressed in his slick, black suit with a pure white, ironed blouse that put Ash's patched suit and tacky 70's wear to shame.

" _Gary_ , what in the world are _you_ doing here?"

"Well, unlike you, I could _actually_ afford to go to school to become a detective instead of playing cop for the last three years!" Gary mocked Ash, holding a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. One eyebrow was lowered in a temperamental gaze, and Ash could literally feel all the joy leave his body: replaced with instead, pure rage.

"What's wrong with going through the police academy! You're not better than me!" he shouted, jarring the attention from his co-workers. The peaceful tapping ending with concerned looked from across the room, and Ash immediately slapped his mouth closed.

Gary snorted, leaning in close to mutter: "Great first impression."

Ash's hands shook in front of him as Gary waved mockingly, sharing a derogatory wink, and carried on with his morning. Even after three years, Gary could still grind every last one of is nerves! He _knew_ that stupid red sports car looked familiar! Of course it had to belong to Gary fucking Oak! His perfect first day was _ruined_ now! What was so great about law school, anyways? Good cops didn't come from a school desk, they came from real life experience, police academy experience!

In a bit of a huff, Ash spun away from his co-workers concerned face, and stormed directly to the chief of police's office with his hands firmly against his sides. He didn't mean to dig his shoes into the hard wood floors, but if he did not stomp something, he might have thrown Gary's coffee into his face. Just because he had money didn't make him any better.

 _Stupid jerk Gary._ Ash thought bitterly, looking down at the floor.

If possible, Ash would have pressed the reset button this entire day from that moment on.

The very moment his eyes touched the floor, an equally enraged, red-haired vixen blew opened the doors of the chief's office, where Ash happened to be walking.

Had Ash been paying attention, he would have known to stop, or move, or jump—do the Macarena and turn himself around; _instead_ , he kept moving forward, until his forehead collided with the angry woman. The sudden jolt knocked the papers from her hand, caused whatever liquid she was carrying to splash back onto her white blouse which only erupted in a searing, scream from the woman while Ash fell into a complete panic.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Ash shouted in a blur, trying to pat away the liquid—it only took him a few minutes to realize it was _hot coffee_ he split on her, and only a second longer to realize he had successfully gotten to second base in an attempt to prevent the substance from burning her.

Needless to say, he was _never_ going to forget _that_ right hook. For a girl, she could pack one hell of a punch.

 **XOXs**

Lucky for Ash, he had _one_ friend on the force already. Tracey Sketchit, the Kanto Police sketch artist. The older man pulled Ash out of the mess and into the infirmary before Ash was literally beaten into a pulp by said woman with a temper. Thought about throwing coffee at Gary—was provided with instant Karma.

 _Good job, Ash!_ He chanted to himself sarcastically while holding his face.

"Man, you really know how to start the day, don't you?" Tracey said in a gentle, mock tone while pressing the ice pack to Ash's eyebrow. Ash winced, reeling backwards to hold the pack against his eye and grunt.

"Good to know you haven't changed since high school." Tracey added again in a tone so mocking Ash could have throttled him.

"Well, at least I can say I was a detective for a good ten minutes before screwing it up. I guess it's back to Gym's Pizza..." Ash said with a sigh so long that even Tracey felt bad for him.

"Oh, cheer up, something bad happens to all of us on our first day." He tried, but Ash deadpanned at him. Lips were a flat line when he spoke next, in a quiet frustrated, possibly mortified, tone.

"I took her shirt _off_ —or at least tried to."

"You were trying to prevent her from being burned." Tracey offered, fighting the urge to chuckle. "You had her best interest at heart." Tracey hesitated, holding in a snicker while Ash narrowed his eyes.

Had Brock been here, the sentiment would have been followed with: _or her best interest at chest_ , and since Tracey and Brock were the _best_ of friends in high school, he had no doubt the same thought ran through Tracey's head.

Ash blinked through a swelling eye and then sighed. "I don't think she saw it that way—and I haven't even seen the Chief of Police yet."

"Oh, you haven't met Jenny yet?" Tracey asked with a bold smile. "She's great! I'm sure if you explain what happened she will forgive you... just... try not to screw up again." Tracey warned him.

With Tracey's subtle words ending, the acting nurse, who wasn't really a nurse but the assistant mortician placed a butterfly bandage over his eye to reduce the swelling, Ash went on his way with a short thank you, and a farewell to Tracey. Hopefully, the police chief would be a little more forgiving than that red head.

 **XOXs**

When Ash approached the office, he did not have to knock before a reply came.

"Come in, Ash." Jenny's strong, booming voice answered.

Ash swallowed against the nervous lump in the back of his throat before stepping into the small office, and clicking the door shut. He might have been the victim of stares, but he was so trained on _not being fired_ today, he did not care what anyone else thought at the moment. Upon entrance, she stared at him with cold, blue eyes for a long time before gesturing him to sit. Ash could not speak, somehow in the last ten seconds, he had forgotten how.

"Care to explain what happened?" The chief asked while resting her chin on her intertwined fingers. Ash gulped, and fidgeted back and forth in the chair he was in.

"I...was distracted when I was walking and bumped into that woman..." Ash held his forehead, knowing himself, how stupid he sounded. "I was trying to stop her from being burned by the coffee I accidentally caused her to splash." Ash explained, unable to make eye contact.

 _How humiliating._

A long pause surfaced before the sound of the chief's laughter broke the tension. Ash looked up slowly, a bit hopeful with a nervous smile on his own lips while she bellowed, holding her gut and leaning back in her chair with a loud creak.

She laughed for a time, though Ash never felt safe enough to join in. In the end, she sniffed, and wiped the corners of her eye.

"Oh man, that will be one for the books for sure." she croaked between chuckles, trying to catch her breath. Meanwhile, Ash tried to remain stoic.

Since he did not answer right away Jenny licked her lips and nodded very, very slowly. "We'll let it slide this time because no one was injured and it's your first day." She muttered, but then the humor left her eyes, replaced with that same, cold gaze.

"Do it again, however, and you'll be out of here before you can beg for mercy. I don't like foul play." Her tone was low, venomous. Ash nodded quickly and popped out of his seat.

"Otherwise," She rose with him, her mood more pleasant than it had been. "It's nice to meet you—I hope you enjoy your time here. Your case work has been placed on your desk which is located at the center of the detective unit. We will meet after lunch to discuss who your partner will be. Until then, try _not_ to help anyone else, okay?" She said in a mock-sweet tone guided by a firm handshake.

Ash twitched as he nodded, shook her hand, and then left the room as quickly as humanly possible, though carefully. He didn't want to run into _another_ person!

Whoever the red haired woman was from earlier, she was no-where to be seen in the detective unit, which allowed Ash a moment to breath a sigh of relief as he made his way to his desk. He didn't bring anything with him except for a picture of him and his mom, but after seeing the group of police officers glaring at him behind a snickering Gary, he almost thought otherwise to place the picture.

...No way! Ash wouldn't be bullied. He removed the picture from his jacket pocket, and placed it beside his monitor before pawing at the folders that had been placed in his box.

Quite a few cases were already there—and while he _tried_ to ignore the whispers around him, he flipped through each case with minor interest. Most of them weren't active cases, they were paperwork, a few complaints, and anonymous leads that were usually dead ends.

The Kanto City Police Department covered all ten areas of the city which were broken up by area. Pallet farms, Pewter hills, Viridian forest, Cerulean square, Celadon park, Saffron towers, Lavender peak, Vermillion bay, Fuschia lanes, and the Cinibar rivers. Opposed to the small time police work filed at Pallet farms Police sector where Ash was transferred from, he was now working for the big leagues; and with it, came the ability to maintain order in all areas of the city; not just the traffic in Pallet. Technically, they were all employed by the Kanto City Police Department, but sub-categories of the division were devised to keep better records of each city area; also known as sectors. Ash was fortunate enough to stay close to home before—but the main branch of the department was placed in the Saffron towers, which meant Ash spent an easy forty-five minute commute to work to the busiest part of the city.

His eyebrows scrunched up, hearing a girls giggle from where Gary watched him with a group of ill-fitted supports, a few police women, and some office works and book keepers, their constant giggling forced Ash to finally look up.

"Do you mind?" Ash snapped, glowering at them. Gary snorted and wagged his hand. The old-rival approached with a swagger in his hips.

"That was an impressive display of detective skills earlier, Ash. Way to really pay attention on your first day." Gary mocked, though before Ash could get a word in edge wise a strong hand was placed on Gary's shoulder.

"That's some tough words coming from a new detective himself, Oak." The older man with onyx eyes and lavender hair groaned. His mouth was turned into an almost permanent frown when he forced Gary to back away from Ash's desk.

"Just because you were able to skip the academy with some prestigious Criminal Justice bullshit, doesn't mean you're exempt from the same rules as the rest of us." The man pointed to Gary's desk, which Ash realized was just as empty as his own. "Now get started on your cases and set an example—Don't act like a _girl_."

The crowd that had gathered around Gary quickly dispersed, and the auburn haired detective nodded. His ego was sorely deflated when he walked around the purple-haired man, and zig-zaged directly to his desk to sulk.

Still, Gary pointed at Ash to say "I'm watching you" and then started to shuffle through his papers before Ash looked up at the angry officer.

"Hey, thanks." Ash grinned, but then the angry eyes turned on him.

"Don't thank me! That was a horrible display of Police etiquette this morning, Ketchum! Don't let me catch you out of line again." He warned and in the short encounter before he stormed off to his own cubical, Ash could see the title of his name-tag. "Paul Shinji."

Another detective. Who sat closer to Gary than Ash. For once, Ash was praising the gods—he would _hate_ to get on that man's bad side. Not even an hour on the force, and he already met a crazy woman with a mean punch, and a hard ass. It was just like he always thought it would be!

 **XOXs**

With the excitement of the morning over, Ash had already opened the case files, started his reports, and prepared lists of areas to 'check into' to turn into the chief. With a city spanning several hundred miles, and a population verging on a million, the crime rate per capital was as messy as it should have been. Each sector had different violations, personally, Ash thought that Fuchsia lanes was home to some of the sketchiest business, Celadon Park was known for its high theft rate thanks to the large amount of rich people living there, and Pallet farms was known for its back water, hillbilly country folk. The _normal_ guys, if anyone asked Ash.

Thanks to his time in traffic, he was used to a _certain_ amount of desk work—but nothing excused the fact that he was _already_ bored to tears. He hoped that being a detective would be a little more exciting than _this._ He honestly thought the cases would be chosen for him, he would find the bad guy, report him to justice, then rinse and repeat.

Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling with pursed lips.

 _Dad always made this sound so much more exciting_. Ash thought in a bitter tone, before the clicks of heels funneled into the division. Snapped from his stupor, his eyes fell onto the doors he cheerfully walked through that morning, to be met with Jenny's blue hair, and the sparky-red hair of _death_ right beside her. She wore a black t-shirt, and black slacks; as opposed to what she _probably_ looked like this morning, she did not look the _slightest_ bit professional in her tee-shirt.

She did, however, look extremely pissed off, and Ash could not beg the question why.

 _Please don't be a detective. Plllllease don't be a detective._ He chanted while Jenny called for all working detectives to meet her in her office right away. Ash, Gary, and Paul, apparently the only working detectives in the unit, followed her stubbornly, though Ash kept to the back in fear of being close to the fiery redhead.

 _Please. Don't. be. a. Detective._ Ash thought one last time before entering the office for the second time that day. He took a place beside Gary, who was beside Paul—who stood beside _her_. Nervously, he _wanted_ to hide his face in shame— _flee,_ perhaps, but he was rooted the moment Jenny started speaking.

"So, we have two new, junior detectives joining our precinct today, their names are Gary Oak, and Ash Ketchum. The two of you should already know Mr. Oak; his father has been the lead forensic analysis for the last thirty years and has helped solved thousands of cases. On the other hand, it seems _you two,_ " She gestured to Ash, and then the red head. "became quite acquainted this morning." her tone was almost humorous to the point that Ash could feel the rage boiling two persons down.

 _Oh God, she_ is _a detective_. Was the only thought Ash could manage. _But of course she was a detective, why else would she be in here?!_

Her face was turned down into a hostile frown; and the only other thought Ash could think was: _Please let Shinji be my partner, please let Shinji be my partner._ He would take crazy, uptight man any day over the girl he technically, _almost_ man handled that morning. She was already probably deciding on ways to kill him. Writing up a list and checking it twice. Besides, Ash _never_ had luck with girls, they ended up obsessed or making fun of him—he did not want hostile added to that short list.

"Ketchum, Oak, these are the two leading detectives of this department; Paul Shinji, and Misty Waterflower." The chief's voice seemed to soften slightly. "I've already assigned you both to your new partners—so _regardless_ of what's happened today. Play nicely." her eyes were fixated on Misty, and Ash could feel the hole in his chest deepening.

"Detective Waterflower, you will be in charge of Junior Detective Ash Ketchum, and Detective Shinji, you will be in charge of Junior Detective Gary Oak."

Gary and Ash groaned in unison, but it was Misty who flipped the chair in front of her and then stormed out of the office, slamming the wooden door behind her.

"Don't mind her." The chief expressed... "She can have a bit of a temper." Jenny added with a cluck of her tongue, "She's a great superior to learn from regardless."

 _That's it, I'm dead_. Ash thought cynically while trying to keep a straight face. Did no one else see the way she tossed that chair without any effort? Unless it was made of paper, Ash was pretty sure she could snap him in half with a glance, _forget_ working with her!

"Well, since they clearly seem to have issues—couldn't we say, change partners?" Gary inquired in an unprofessional tone, and for once, Ash did not disagree with him while sweating bullets.

However, Jenny slammed her hand on the desk. "The decision has already been made! You all will _learn_ to get a long." Jenny bellowed dangerously, and the two 'newbies' shrunk back with a "yes ma'am!" While Paul could only scoff, slightly amused.

"Is that all?"

"Hmm." Jenny sighed. "Take the day to familiarize your partner with the station, tomorrow you can start on introducing them to field work and assign them a weapon."

Ash could feel the chill run down his spine.

 _Great_. If he was lucky, this _Misty Waterflower_ would shoot him in the back while he was not looking.

 **XOXs**

While Gary and Paul stalked off to visit the several different sectors of the police department the moment they exited the chief's office, Ash was tasked with the unnerving task of speaking with the righteous fury of his new partner. Man, he hoped for a change, and _soon_. There had to have been other police detectives somewhere.

Misty Waterflower sat at her desk, which was cluttered with papers; notes, reports, and sticky notes. To the far side of her desk was a picture that was covered in dust of the detective and three older women with odd colors of hair. Organized chaos immediately came to mind while he approached her.

"Is this your family?" Ash asked, grabbing the picture which was immediately swat from his hands. Her speed was untimely and accurate, and Ash shrunk backwards.

"Why?" She snapped hoarsely. "Do you want to fondle them, too?" She growled, slamming her folder closed. Clearly, she was _not_ going to get any work done.

"Hey!" He snapped in his defense, enraged. "Don't throw that word around! I was trying to stop you from burning yourself."

"Well if you had opened your eyes in the first place, we wouldn't have been in that predicament in the first place!" She argued, standing up to face him. He could see the weapon holstered at her hip and he returned his gaze to her eyes—which were a brilliant display of sea-green; uncommon in the region.

Taken aback, he blinked a few times. "S-sorry."

Jarred, she reeled away from him. "Whatever."

Outside of the anger; she might have been _pretty_. If she stopped scowling all the time. "Hey, wait a minute! You're supposed to show me around the police station!" Ash shouted after her, taking off into a jog to keep beside the heel-toting woman.

"Then you better keep up." She sneered unpleasantly in return.

 **XOXs**

When Ash returned home, he was beat. More tired in an eight hour shift than the twelve hour days he spent in the academy. Whoever this Misty Waterflower was, she was _exhausting_. Mixed with an easy going Chief of Police, a scary supervisor and Gary, Ash was _sure_ the next ten years would go off without a hitch!

"Ugh." He groaned, pushing open the front door to his house, which was met with streamers, and applause from within. Confetti mixed with the beaming faces of his long-time friends, May, Brock, and his mother, Delia. At his feet, Pikachu barked gleefully, then chased his tail support.

"Congratulations, Ash!" They shouted eagerly, raising Ash's spirits instantly.

"You guys!" He bellowed, extending his hands to his side. "You _did_ remember! Thank you!" his voice was a bit more strained than he had wanted it to be, and he sounded a bit more sad than expected, so they all looked on at him in worry, despite his best attempts to sound happy.

"How was your first day?" His mom asked, grabbing him into a hug and leading him onto the back porch where they sat around a small fire she had prepared. "Did you catch any bad guys? Your father caught two on his first day." She sang happily while passing around a controlled amount of alcohol.

Ash did not say thank you when he popped open the glass bottle and sighed.

"I have the most _infuriating_ partner." Ash did not hesitate to complain, he was always very open about his emotions, and so his friends leaned in to eagerly.

"Do tell." Brock grinned, thanking Delia for a beer while Ash grimaced.

"She basically gave me all of the worst jobs, yelled at me the whole day, and put me in terrible situations since I accidentally spilled coffee on her this morning."

"That seems a little childish." May offered her condolences while swiping her long brunette hair behind her ear.  
"You're telling me!" Ash gasped, throwing his arms up. "To make it worse, _Gary_ works there, too. He's the other Junior Detective I told you guys about. He was _supposed_ to be transferring out of town!" _in fact_ , Ash almost wanted to bet he did not really finish school, but Samuel Oak, Gary's grandfather and the lead forensic analyst got Gary the job in the first place!

"Well, don't worry Ash, things have to get better—it's only your first day." Brock managed with a soft smile. Ash could only feel his eyebrow twitch in return, recalling his mother's words about his father's time on the police force.

"Mom, did dad have a horrible partner?"

"Don't you think it's too early to be saying that she's _horrible_?" She scolded flatly, then her normal cheer returned. "But, no, your father enjoyed all of his partners. Some of them were quite different, but they were all _good!_ "

The revelation only forced Ash to sigh while placing the cold bottle against his forehead. He _never_ was as lucky as his father.

 **Author's Note:**

Alright guys, as the most well-reviewed (and most requested) chapter from Mad Season; here we go: That Cop AU, with some friendly and much-needed edits.

As far as stories go, this one will be my next 'side story' project, therefore, I'm posting the first chapter the day before Until The Day wraps up (because this one will be taking UtD's place in my traditional update schedule).

Several disclaimers now: I know there are like 12 different criminal investigation divisions, but because I'm a piece of crap, I'm going to be breaking some rules to fit what I believe will be better story telling. Sometimes things may be meshed into one 'detective' class. I'm still doing research for this story, so my updates will vary on how detailed that is. I have the first 15 chapters paraphrased, and the outline detailed up until the climax of the story. I'm posting this with a little less preparation than most of my other stories, but I'm also the most excited for this story so I'm hoping that by posting it, I invigorate myself to actually work a little harder on it!

 **I do want to include the whole cast with at the very least, minor appearances, but I don't want** _ **everyone**_ **to be a flippin cop, either. Lol. SERIOUSLY. I would like some input on where some of the characters would be working in a scenario like this; some of them are already decided on, but please give me your feedback (and the reason you think so!)**


	2. Chapter 2: Let's begin

**So You Want to be a Cop, Chapter 2**

Ash started every morning the same.

Today a little less enthusiastic, a little less excited, but he got up and completed his routine, anyways. Today he knew what he was walking into, and the temptation to crawl back into bed was intensified immensely. Ash prayed for five o'clock, and he hadn't even left his house yet.

Beneath him, Pikachu, who was always wonderful at sensing Ash's less than stellar moods, dipped and dived between his owner's legs in an attempt to cheer the man up. He didn't even have his button-up over his white tank top yet, and it was almost seven.

"Alright, I'm up." Ash muttered, being sure to pet Pikachu's head gingerly before stalking off to grab a new shirt. This time, a blazer with blue cuffs and a blue collar matching an off-white cream of the shirt. This was tucked underneath the same, patchy, tan coat he wore the day prior and a forceful smile over his lips. He slipped on his black trousers once again, and then while cracking his neck, started down the stair case.

 _I will have a good day. I will have a good day_. He chanted to himself as Pikachu raced to the end of the stairs, overly energetic for an eleven year old dog. Wafting in from the kitchen below, the scent of bacon caught his attention, and together with Pikachu they pounced down the remaining stairs.

"Mom!" Ash yelped, diving into the kitchen to hug her warmly over the shoulder, _and maybe to hover over the greasy food in the frying pan_. She still wore her light blue house coat, yesterdays make-up was smeared under her eyes, and her hair was tied up into a bun on top of her head. She usually slept at least until nine, but today she was awake, and he couldn't have been more happy.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"Well, you said your day wasn't that great yesterday, so I thought I would cheer you up with a nice breakfast—plus, you drank quite a lot last night. You should re-hydrate before driving."

Ash's eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs and he ran his hand through his naturally spiky hair. He forgot that he drank last night, a few beers here and there with the old gang wasn't _really_ drinking though. He felt fine.

...then again, his mother was making him breakfast, and he was not going to give her a reason not to.

"I'll set the table." Ash hummed, grabbing plates from the cupboard and placing them on the table while Delia hummed and Pikachu paced near his food bowl. After carefully sorting the cutlery, Ash made his way to the hallway to grab Pikachu's food from under the stair case.

"I wonder what today is going to bring?" Ash said loudly, jarring his mother's concentration while she flipped a set of pancakes onto a loaded platter, then dropped some eggs in her skillet.

"Nothing but good opportunities if you keep your chin up." She answered back sharing his same optimistic tone. "You are going to be the greatest detective in the Kanto City Police Department, are you not?"

Chuckling while he emerged with a fresh bowl of food for Pikachu, he veered off to his seat while Delia decorated the table with a pile of food. His mother reiterating his dream since he was five made a thoughtful grin form over his lips.

"Of course!"

 **XOX**

Normal pleasantries passed between them at breakfast, what the weather was expecting, what Delia's plans were for the day, a promise to take Pikachu for a walk when he came home that evening, and most importantly, Ash venting about his new partner, and the circumstance with Gary.

"I don't understand why I couldn't be paired with Paul? Why did I have to get stuck with _Waterflower_.You know, I bet the police chief thought it would be funny given the situation I pu-" Ash hesitated, sipping his milk while fading from the conversation quickly. He hadn't exactly _told_ his mother how he fell into poor graces with the elder detective.

"Oh, Ash." Delia sighed, watching her son's detest ooze from every pore on his face while he brushed his hands through his hair, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek as a goodbye.

"Think positively."

"I'll try." Ash hummed. "Anyways, I'll catch you later. Be good, Pikachu!" Ash shouted into the house while flicking his keys in his hand with a skip in his step he was not scared to show in front of his mother. A worried look crossed her face while she huffed after him, watching him climb into his old truck.

"I hope he has good day, huh, Pikachu?" Delia remarked aloud, listening to the dark bark cheerfully before shutting the door.

 **XOX**

The skip in his step long faded by the time he approached the detectives division of the police station. What originally filled him with immense joy now forced him to shudder with dread. But it had to get better! He was going to be the best. Soon enough, everyone would see that!

Walking in with his head held high, he noticed right away Gary and Paul's absence, but never failed to see Misty. Sitting at her desk like a witch over a cauldron, she skimmed through her notes, barely looking up to see that he arrived.

"You're late." She spoke hastily, missing his rolling eyes in favor of listening to him slouch into his seat, and mock her from afar.

Then, he recalled what Brock said, _what he could remember,_ at least. Maybe he did have too much to drink last night?

 _It was kind of your fault. She can't be that bad. Yesterday, you spilled coffee on her, felt her up, and did you even apologize? Maybe you should start there_. Brock was a wise, old friend, but he had no idea how talking to Misty felt. It was like nails on a chalk board.

"I'm not late..." he finally replied looking up at the clock to see that he was indeed five minutes behind. "I was stuck at a light, it's just five minutes-"

"Is that what you're going to tell your first victim after she dies from being stabbed six times because you were five minutes _late_?" Her voice took a venomous tone while she dropped the file she was aimlessly picking through with a fine comb and rapped her fingers on her wooden desk. In this entire section, it was just the two of them, and he felt so very uncomfortable.

 _Gee, edgy much_? "No, I think getting to the office late, and to a crime scene late are pretty different." He muttered, breaking eye contact with her, though she was clearly unimpressed with his answer.

"You should get into the habit of being fifteen minutes early."

"Usually am."

"It's your second day." Ash felt his fingers curl on a rather intriguing document from yesterday that had been piled back onto his desk. She's testing him, she has to be. This is some _big_ joke because _no one_ was this much of a hard ass.

"Yeah, well, sorry?"

She huffed, sitting back in her chair and pursing her lips with narrowed eye. From that angle, he could see that she was wearing a red, sleeveless button up blouse in direct contrast to the tee-shirt she wore yesterday after the incident. She wore black slacks like him, and one-inch heels. He red hair was tied back into a neat pony tail that cascaded onto her shoulders while she glared at him with those sea-green eyes.

"Because you were late, we missed the first call of the morning. We're on clean up duty now." Ash's ears perked up at that, the silence overwhelming. So _that_ 's where Paul and Gary went, then? To do field work.

"...Clean up duty?" he finally asked aloud while she moved from her desk to grab a large box from beside her desk, and carried it over effortlessly to Ash's, and set it on top of everything else he had there.

Ash stood up quickly, glancing down to the contents of the brown box, then stared brashly up at her while she moved back to her desk in those damn clicking heels.

"These are files from _yesterday_." he groaned.

"I know." Misty muttered, siting in her chair and leaning back with a smirk that made him furious. "You have to do them again."

"What?!" He snapped, sitting back in his chair and throwing his arms up behind his head. "What was wrong with them?"

"They're sloppy." Misty announced, "Well, rushed is more like it."

"Just because I don't highlight and sticky note my documents doesn't mean they're _sloppy_ , it was fine in the Pallet Farms sector."

Again, that apparently wasn't the reply she was expecting to hear, because the way her jaw squared and her lips popped, she looked lethal.

"Maybe that was okay there, but _here_ , we have a process. Paul does it to. You, as the detective, are responsible in making the case files idiot proof." She paused, standing up to collect her thermos that Ash clearly remembered from yesterday as the start of the rest of his painful existence.

"...Though, I imagine if an idiot's doing it, we're all screwed, aren't we?" Slipped out from her lips when Ash thought she might have been being generous. Then, with a hasty, knowing smile, she flicked her wrist at him before tapping away.

"I have to redo all of these?" Ash shouted, staring down in the box. Gary's files were here, too.

"Yep!"

"You're joking!"

"Nope!" She replied, grabbing her jacket from the hanger an waving over her shoulder at him.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a lead to follow up on, but _hey_ , let me know how those cases go, will ya'?" She winked at him before leaving.

 _Winked_! Wasn't she supposed to be training him? He was _supposed_ to be on field work today, too! That's what Jenny said to him!

 _Bitch_! Ash did not use slurring words, it wasn't in his nature to call anyone by names unless they were a certain, simpleton known as Gary Oak, but his mind screamed to bite his tongue before he spoke the very words that would end his career.

This _had_ to be a test, he reminded himself while grabbing the first of the files and glaring down at them. What was he supposed to do differently? They were exceptionally easy to read from the start! Surely, officers weren't simple enough not to understand what was clearly written here. Stiff fingers rubbed his temples as he shook off the aggression and buckled down.

 **XOX**

As Misty pulled up to another crime scene in her blue impala, she exhaled quietly at the many people surrounding the public display of another murder. They pushed the borders of the caution tape, snapped pictures with their phones, and moderately annoyed every police officer in the vicinity. How disrespectful were people to take _pictures_ of a body on their personal phones? They had police photographers for that, and furthermore, it was disturbing. Misty pushed open her door, slipping past a few reporters who tried to stop her before she reached the tape, but she made easy work of handling their behavior.

Paul was drinking coffee while he looked at the body. It was mangled, cut in several different places. Not here, though, there were no splatter marks outside of the pool of blood coagulating beneath the victim. Her eyes gazed over certain slashes—markings that were like other victims, and exhaled.

Another young person; between the age of twenty and twenty five, cut to pieces, and left in a public area for the world to see. Most importantly, all identifiable marks were removed; a messy, yet effective psychopath.

Man, she didn't understand how the world worked at all.

Standing next to Paul in the morning air, she exhaled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Where's Oak?"

"Throwing up." Paul gestured to the public washroom beside them. "he has a weak stomach for blood."

"Guess that's why we do it like this." Misty pointed to the body's wrist, and moved forward with Paul at her side.

"Reminds me of a certain redhead who graduated from law school."

Nodding solemnly, Misty had no room to deny the accusation. It took her years before she was accustomed to a certain level of blood. That was the difference between graduating from the academy and graduation from the criminal justice program. One had an endless supply of field work, and the other was reading about it.

"What about yours?" Paul questioned while Misty lifted the body's wrist with a gloved hand.

"Redoing sloppy paperwork." She glanced at Paul, then back at the body before checking the mouth, the eyes, and the throat. "Not throwing up, at least." She spoke then flicked off her wrist.

"It's our guy." Misty muttered, pointing to the body and waving for a camera man to take close-up pictures of the scene.

"I saw that." Grimacing, Paul watched while Gary twisted out of the washroom, only to buckle at the sight of the body once again, a sigh escaped his lips.

"That's the second one this month."

"Looks like we have a serial killer on the loose..." She paused. "I'll tell the chief about it, but until then... well, I don't care what we tell the press. That's not my jurisdiction."

"Clean this up!" Paul shouted to the team who was lounging around until his voice ripped through them. Misty walked from the scene of the crime with a wobble in her step, and eyes focused on her vehicle.

Like the last victim, the marking "TF" was written on the right wrist in blue ink. What a time to be a cop.

 **XOX**

By noon, Ash was bored, and only about half way through the box when he realized he didn'thave to fill these out again. Well, he probably had to, he just didn't want to. He also wasn't going to complete Gary's for him. If the man got in trouble, then that was _his_ problem, not Ash's.

Misty was just being a bully, forcing him into paperwork he didn't have to do, and keeping him locked at a desk in a forever-growing smaller room. If Chief Jenny was in the office, Ash might have mentioned something to her, but now, _oh man was he ever bored_.

In his efforts to relieve his boredom, he followed Tracey around the station, who for the moment, didn't have any current cases to work on as the sketch artist. Unlike Misty, the fellow co-worker gave Ash a proper walk through of the building. They had their own shooting range, and a gym to take the pressure off of the work load. An infirmary, personal counseling (that he knew a certain redhead probably needed), the obvious cell rooms, a parking garage were located in the basement of the facility, as well as the forensic department and medical examiner. The main floor held the offices of technical guys, and general police officers—detective units, the front lobby, and the front desk. Upstairs had the administration section, the police files that were connected to a vault room that was located on the main floor. Then of course, the filing room was on the main floor—left of the detective's small cave at the back of the building, and just outside of the police chief's office. The chief liked to see who was entering and leaving the room at all times, and had large windows to see into the rest of the departments. That didn't include small offices for discussion, and interrogation rooms which were in the east wing of the department.

On top of being huge in comparison to Pallet Farms department, Ash discovered that the police station was short staffed, among everything else. Tracey explained that originally, there were supposed to be a dozen detectives working in different parts of the police station, but after some budget cuts, and some _problems_ he didn't specify, there weren't as many applications for the job. Jenny was also being picky about anyone new that they put through as detectives.

If Ash made it onto the Kanto City Police department, he had to be something special. Or, at least, that's what he was telling himself.

"If that's the case, why is Misty picking on me so much?" Ash barked, throwing a pencil up and down while he and Tracey lounged in the lunch room.

Tracey snacked on a cake and slurped some juice. "Maybe she just doesn't like you?"  
"Who wouldn't like me?" asked Ash, sitting forward in his chair to deliver a hard glare. Tracey stammered and shifted.

"Well, you did, sort of, you know, _handle her goods_ yesterday. Of course it's going to take awhile before she warms up to you."  
Releasing another groan, save for Tracey's sparing phrasing of the incident, Ash huffed and leaned quietly over the horribly colored lime-green table, located in a lime-green room, with yellow floors. Whoever designed this lunch room needed to have their head examined, but eating in the lounge area where the coffee, rugged cops, water cooler and soft chairs with a working television was a no-go right now. Especially because Ash was the butt of the rest of the force's joke, no thanks to Gary.

"This sucks. Gary's out at a crime scene, and I'm stuck here, doing paperwork." Ash mumbled quietly into the sleeve of his forearm, and Tracey felt the urge to pat his black hair, but stopped.

"I'm sure it will get better. Everyone's first week on the job is hard, you're not different."

 _But I am_ , almost came from Ash's throat, but he settled for a slump instead.

"I guess..." He muttered while the clocked ticked and Tracey glanced down to his watch.

"Ah—gotta run, I'm going to be late for a meeting with a witness," the sketch artist was out of his seat a second later. "It'll get better, I promise." Tracey offered as last minute advice on his way out of the room, to which Ash blew a strand of hair from his face and shrugged.

"I guess."

He wasn't any further along with his task than he was a few hours ago—he would much rather be _out there_ instead of working on the cases he already went through, he wanted to complete the field work behind them—find the missing persons, search for clues at the Saffron Tower, explore the trenches of the Cerulean streams for evidence of a murder.

Not cooped up in some room, listening to the clock tick hours by merciless!

With an uncomfortable sigh escaping his lips, young detective Ash Ketchum shifted from his seat, scoot his chair back beneath the table, and stuffed his hands into his blazer's pocket.

Misty wasn't being fair. She was his superior officer, and she was _supposed_ to be helping him out, not damning him to entry-level-academy work. They were _supposed_ to be sorting out his custom weapon, organizing their focused case, and preparing actions to prepare against further kidnappings, murders—and most importantly, figuring out which cases were the most important, and how to solve them quickly.

Ash moved from the lunch room, past the small staff lounge, and through the wooden corridors of the building until he finally arrived once more in the every-shrinking detective unit. _And yet_ , _here he was, stuck behind for walls without ever having been given a reason._

 **XOX**

Five o'clock came too quickly, with Gary and Paul blazing through the archway into the unit while Ash sat in his swivel chair. He thought Gary looked a bit pale, but neglected to ask why. The auburn haired man fetched a satchel from the chair at his desk and pulled it up over his shoulder and rest his hand over his stomach. Paul didn't bother acknowledging Ash's existence before rushing off to speak with the police chief about what Ash could only assume was something of great interest, so instead, he lazily spun to see Gary clearing his throat.

"So, how was it?"

Had Ash been a bit more observational when it came to Gary Oak, he might have saw the delayed reaction—the hesitation behind his hazel eyes, followed by a brief clearing of his throat.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he hissed confidently and Ash threw up his arms in agreement.

He would like to know, but apparently, that wasn't going to happen!

"Anyways, smell ya' later, Ketchum." Gary added quietly, flipping around to exit the building without further comment. His shoulders drooped once he reached the solace of the hallway, but no _way_ would Ash ever admit to seeing Gary upset. Whatever was going on was a big deal, and Ash would have liked to know himself... but it was five o'clock, which meant quitting time for him!

Eagerly, he bound from his seat, threw on his coat, and rushed for the door. After a gruesome eight hour day of repeat-work, he was ready to be relieved of this hell. He would surely have more to do tomorrow; even a case, maybe. There was no way Misty would keep him behind again.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and Ash would be fifteen minutes early and even beat her to work; that way, she would have no excuse for him not to tag along! Paperwork be damned!

Ash did not spare goodbyes to his co-workers on his way out, they had a line at the police station that was open twenty four seven, so while the desk prepared for the night shift, the rest of the officers and workers prepared for the evening off, whereas Ash was already out of the front doors.

In a hurry, he almost didn't see the flash of red hair facing him at the bottom of the steps, one foot on the last step prepared to enter the station. She looked cooler now, less frazzled than she was that morning, but her hair was messier, and she forgo her heels for more practical casual wear.

"Were are you going?" Misty asked abruptly, stopping him in his tracks for only a moment.

"Home?" He ran from her, twirling his keys in his hand. Misty held the briefcase in her hand to her chest, then looked up at the station then back to him.

"Well, hey, did you finish those-"

"See you tomorrow morning!" He shouted, interrupting her question and blatantly ignoring her claims, Misty bit her tongue to contain her anger, and then in a cloud of black smoke, he veered out of the parking lot and was gone.

"-papers." She huffed, running a stray hand through her hair. The primary reason her tangled mane was always a mess was because she wouldn't stop running her hand over. Today was a stressful day. _Everyday was a stressful day_.

They had a serial killer on the lose, no doubt; press to deal with, witnesses to interview—and she barely spoke with _half_ today, none of which were comfortable talking to the 'feds'. Tomorrow they were going to put together the criminal profile—and if Ash completed those...

When her foot stepped through the detective unit to see that the box she handed him that morning was still plump full, aside from the handful in the box on the right side of his desk, her heart plummeted. Beside the paperwork was an assortment of doodles on his mouse pad, indication of snacking at his desk, and the origami of a toddler.

He didn't complete the files, he slacked off and to make matters _worse_ , he left right away without _telling her_. Did something happen that prevented him from finishing his duties? The floor _looked_ clean, no reports flew at her as she walked in so he had to have been...Misty inhaled quietly, then felt a snap at the back of her neck, and she reached to scratch at it desperately.

 _Breath in, then out_. She reminded herself hotly to soothe her burning nerves.

"Misty, are those reports completed? I want them on my office tomorrow morning." Jenny bellowed while exiting her office and flipping through the report Paul gave her. Said man trailed only a step behind the blue-haired woman.

"We'll also be holding a meeting on Friday, so I want all the information on this 'TF' killer that may have been connected to the files you were given this morning. We'll speak with the coroner..." Jenny trailed off as she saw the distressed look prance over Misty's face, the claw marks she put on the back of her neck, and the way her body stiffened at the mention of the reports...

Which were clearly on the floor next to Ash's desk.

"Looks like you have a long night." the chief murmured with a shake of her head, and then motioned to Paul to follow after her.

Meanwhile, in a huff, Misty bent over very slowly, ripped the file box from his desk, walked it back over to hers with a loud _thump_ , and then passively snatched the files he did complete out of the bin.

Gary and Ash were both disappointments, at this point! Gary couldn't keep down his lunch, and Ash was a lazy, no good son of a- Misty breathed to calm herself, thumbing the files while she collapsed into her seat, and flicked open the report that Ash _did_ complete.

She should have expected nothing less from the amateur who royally screwed up, wore 70's coat jackets and walked into work smelling like syrup. He was a mistake, they should have-

 _This was actually pretty good_. Her thoughts beckoned to her.

Misty flipped the page over. It was a missing person's report, Duplica Electa missing for three years now, the case was reopened temporarily when a new witness came forward anonymously through mail sent to the family, but ended up only as a scam. Ash high lighted not only the leading facts of the case, but circled in several pictures changed scenery; placed sticky notes on opposing thoughts—where facts didn't make sense, and on the last page of the file, recorded notes on possible 'holes' in the last investigation.

Unsure if what she was seeing was right, she blinked, shook her head, and scanned the pages again—it was thorough work—notable and _almost_ insulting not to give him some compliment.

 _But it had to be fluke_ Misty told herself brashly while scooting the file to the side, and opening up the next one—the same details were outlined, with notes and _all in pencil_ so anything they didn't agree with could be erased. The case was closed, but they still needed to send out statements to the family, which Ash dutifully wrote out the receipts, and tucked them into a note that could be sent to the filing office-if only he actually got that far, rather than leaving it at his desk.

...He wasn't incompetent.

Which only made the fact that the majority of the files were incomplete _twice_ as infuriating! He wasn't dumb, _he was lazy_ and that was just as bad! Misty glanced up at the clock—a quarter after five, and the paperwork here was at _least_ five hours worth of information.

Pinching the bridge of her noise while her chair creaked as she leaned back, she swore to herself that she _loved_ her job. Otherwise, this wouldn't have been worth it.

 **XOX**

By the time Misty closed the last booklet with a sigh of relief—completed cases, needed to be filed, double checked, and sent to the back room to be forgotten about—it was a quarter to eleven, and she swore at herself, and mentally at Ash, who—if it were up to her—wouldn't have a job to come back to in the morning. He had one job to sate him for a day, and he couldn't even _manage_ that. Instead, he slacked off—probably ventured off and visited with the rest of the staff and blew off his chores _just because_.

She would get him back for this, Misty reminded herself while rising from her seat, and clicking off the lamp at her desk. Carrying the now-complete box of files from the corner of the desk, she kicked away from the detective unit, and made her way to the filing room.

"Hey, Misty. You're still here?" A voice called behind her while she loaded the box onto her shoulder for easy carrying. The voice of the man was quiet, a bit on the shy side while he turned the corner to see her. His round glasses were pushed up the bridge of his nose, his tech-personal bag hanging off of his shoulders, and his shirt hanging lose over his thin body.

"Yea, I'm just heading out now, though." She answered, offering a soft smile. "How are you, Clemont? Things are going well with the transfer?"  
"Oh, you know, _better._ " he answered glancing away from her and pursing his lips.

"That's good, and what about Bonnie?"

He flinched, a forced smile over his lips. "She's staying with some friends for now, but after... Well, she's okay." He finished quickly, shifting uncomfortably away from the red haired detective.

Misty shot him a wry smile, then went about her business as the awkward computer technician left the building's main floor. Clemont was always a strange one, constantly trying new ideas to frame the police's mainframe to prevent hackers and keep computers and technology up-to-date, but lately, he was slacking in the department, and mostly floated around like a ghost of his former _science is great_ persona.

Misty clicked open the file room's door, and brushed inside—it wasn't like she could blame him, though. Anyone whose sister was kidnapped because of a anti-virus software that he was the founder of wouldn't have been okay afterwards. A wire Clemont crossed in the system led the police to some of the largest recoveries of drug smugglers and trafficking that she had ever seen before. And he did it on _accident._ After the events that transpired immediately after, however, he lost his witty spark, and found solace in simply repairing what was broken, and leaving adventures to the _real_ scientists.

It was two years ago, when Clemont was new to the police force, and still inspired for greatness when a branch of the smugglers they caught plotted out vengeance and took his sister as a way of getting back at the police. Fortunately, they didn't get far and Bonnie was saved. Misty never delved much further than that, she only knew that shortly after Bonnie moved into a house with her best friends, and they didn't have much contact after that. The situation left Clemont devastated, but he was still the best technician on the force—really, the only one they had, given the dwindling numbers of police officers.

Brushing past the heavy, lingering scent of dust and mildew in the carefully coded and organized shelves of the room, Misty placed the box onto the first shelf in the room where another stack of boxes laid, and exhaled. Since the reports started in a month ago of missing people, the case files they had to re-check a million times over were endless.

Countless cases decorated these four walls; most of which were petty misdemeanors filed away by eh court, tragic cops—and others... So many tragedies were spared in the halls of the file room, lost in the eternal abyss of unsolved cases and missing persons report. For every bad guy they caught, another ten got away. Another twenty were released from court—fifty more were released for probation, but it wasn't the justice system that was broken, Kanto City was simply littered with the crazy ones.

Crazy ones that got away, crazy ones that kidnapped children—crazy ones who plead insanity to avoid life in prison.

It wasn't that the system was wrong, it simply _wasn't enough._

Grabbing a few she marked with red to indicate the files to report to the chief, Misty left the quiet history of the police station and made her way patiently to the locked office of the chief.

 _Leave the files on her desk, she says_. Misty rolled her eye, ducking low and slipping the manila folders beneath the wooden door with a solid push _locks the doors she does_. Misty exhaled slowly upon her rise, and her eyes drifted back to the detective unit that remained undisturbed in the darkness.

 **XOX**

Unlike Ash, who woke up every morning the same, prepared with a cheerful disposition, Misty left work at different hours everyday, at different energy levels, and sometimes she never made it home at all. Long stake-outs, written reports, investigations and developing leads on tough cases enclosed most of her life. Long gone were years of mindless frolicking joy while there were intruders lurking around every corner. In fact, she kept a loaded pistol on her waist even during the worst times.

Kanto City removed civilians right to carry fire arms years ago, so most of the time, the weapon was unnecessary, but it was an unfortunate security blanket she carried around after years on the force.

Decorated, her apartment smelled of heavy lavenders and of the swimming pool down the street. Unlike Ash, she had no companion, or family venturing into her small, one bedroom apartment with a combined kitchen and living room, and no space for a table—but it was quaint and homey—and it wasn't like she spent a lot of time there, anyways.

Entering the safe space, after locking the door as well as the chain, she tugged off her black blouse, followed quickly by her button-up, kicked off her flats, tossed her heels to the side, and nearly sprinted for her wash room.

A quick shower to freshen up, wash off the sins of the day—a light bun to keep her hair out of her face, and cozy pajamas were enough to relax every nerve that carried into her twenty-five year old body. Years of stress and exercise left her with knots in nearly every muscle, but she welcomed the sweet release of a warm, green couch to sit on, and left over water bottles to drink from. Outside of work, life was long-lost television dramas and missed calls from her sisters; but it was life, albeit, a small one.

Other than the newly discarded clothes, her house was tidy every where but where she sat in front of the coffee table—which was displayed with open case files, coupled with the push-pin board she had tucked away beneath the coffee table to organize her thoughts away from work. At the bottom, she had written down the names of the new recruits and while she sat back to stare down at them, her eyebrows knit together.

Ash and Gary were not supposed to be hired. At the moment, the Kanto City Police department were under heavy federal investigation—that which was not spoken about by anyone, causing a multitude of staffing issues. One detective went back, and landed all but Paul and Misty on the chopping block.

It was indeed a dark time to be a cop, and the light grew further away with each unsolved case.

Hopefully, this new investigation wouldn't end in the same way.

 _Maybe tomorrow she would give him another chance._

 **Author's Note:**

I really hum-ha'd over this chapter for quite awhile! (The first three drafts made Misty out to be a super-ooc-demon witch, so that wasn't going to do) Wondering if I wanted to write as much detail as I did, wondering if I put in too much; but in the end, I conveyed what I wanted. There's a plot somewhere in here, but we're going to be doing a bit of character/partner building as we get there. Unfortunately, we don't get a lot of Misty POV's, so enjoy the bit you got in this one! :) I wanted to include in here somehow that Ash -is- a good cop, he's just convinced that Misty is being a pain! (and maybe he's better than he thinks he is?) Anyways, my main point is that Ash POV will be handling the majority of the story, but I did feel obligated to show a little of her life to expand on the Police station's universe (Hiiiii clemont!)


	3. Chapter 3: Let's make a scene

**So You Want to Be a Cop, Chapter 3**

 _Click, clack, click, clack_ , those were the sounds haunting him in his sleep at night, that, and the scrawl of pens on paper, and the scent of hot coffee.

A week. It had been a week already and she wasn't letting up. Every day he was stationed at his desk, reading about court cases, and investigations, and homicides! But he was never able to _look_ at any of them. Misty made sure of it. Participation: none. Jenny wasn't around often to see how she treated him, and Paul and Gary clearly didn't care. Gary was put on every field work operation, and Misty went off on her own for hours at a time; leaving Ash in the detective wing all alone.

And yes, Ash had nightmares about it; about _her_. She was a monster in her own right, no matter what Tracey said.

Least he was able to learn more about the department over the week he spent isolated in his little cave. Forensics was run by Professor Oak, and offered some of the best case cracking information they have ever had. Gary Oak was his grandson; which Ash already knew, on both notes. He was very close with the Oaks' growing up, after all. He bumped into the sad-man known as Clemont a few times, tried to eat lunch with him exactly once.

When he started naming his vegetables, Ash decided that it would be best to eat alone—and that was when he met the officers: Casey and Ritchie. Saints in the work force, and the only normal people around: the only people that agreed that Misty was a demon who crawled her way back through hell to disturb and keep the peace, and Paul was an alien wearing the skin of a human—and Gary was an egotistic prick.

He enjoyed having friends on the force.

The thought of his friends was what pulled him out of bed that Friday morning a quarter before six, where he pet Pikachu's head, gave him fresh food, and grabbed a quick bite to eat himself. Since being late on his second day, he made it his personal goal to be thirty minutes early everyday—just so he could see Misty's appalled reaction to him sitting quietly in his desk.

Today was no different as he tugged on his patchy suit jacket, jeans because it was casual Friday, and a white pollo. He marched confidently through his hallways, but very quiet as to not disturb his mother, and once he was ready to depart, he was happy to find that the traffic at a quarter after seven was perfect for driving to the other side of town.

His beater truck survived yet another day when he pulled into the parking lot, slipped out of the door, and slammed it shut—all at the same time a red head was doing the same across the parking lot from him.

She looked exceptionally pretty today. Wearing a black, knee high skirt—split on her right hip with a matching black suit jacket hiding the concealed weapon she wore on top of a silky, red blouse. Matched with the ever-present scowl on her face to counter any warming effects in his belly that was brought on by the way she wore her hair down today, he thought he might lose his lunch.

"You're early."

"Have been the last few days." Ash shot back at her while she jerked her thermos and clicked her keys to lock her royal blue impala. _So that was her car_ , at least he knew which one to accidentally back into if he was having a bad day.

Her perseverance to ignore him until they reached the doors was outstanding, he half expected a sarcastic remark to be flaunted the very second she made eye contact with him, but she marched up the stairs none-the-wiser.

"No witty comeback this morning?" Ash asked, feeling comfortable enough to challenge her authority already. He didn't expect her to stop suddenly with that all-knowing, conniving grin.

"We have a court case this after noon you were supposed to dress appropriately for; you're wearing jeans and a tacky patched suit jacket. Your hair isn't gelled, and, oh, look your shoe is untied—not to mention it looks like you forgot those files you brought home with you last night." The smirk over her lips made Ash want to slam his face into the ground.

"Did I miss anything?"

Ash bit his tongue—eyes flocked to him from around the room, and quiet chatter started taking bets. Ash twisted his tongue and nodded.

"Nope, just that you're looking rather catty today." He addressed her stylish outfit. "Are you planning to woo the jury?"

And she stepped close to him, he was sure if they weren't being watched by a dozen pair of eyes, she might have shoved him—or perhaps twisted his arm; yet, she merely offered a smile, and then tilted her head to one side, growing closer to his face with lowered eyelids.

 _Woo the jury it was_ , his mind beckoned, but his heart raced and he was sure he felt his face turn a shade darker.

"You have ketchup on your shirt." And then she was gone within a heartbeat. Her minty breath lingered in his nostrils for a second, and then by the time his mind caught up to his movements, the gossip train already started its traditional float around the room, but Casey and Ritchie watched with sympathetic glances.

She planned that! And he did not have ketchup on his—he looked down and sighed vehemently before prancing forward.

Ash raced to the detectives wing shortly after her, trying to hide his frazzled expression from Gary, and Paul, not that either of them were interested in what he was doing. Gary looked less egotistic and more weepy as the week was coming to a close. In fact, he looked sick. Not that Gary Oak would ever admit to having any sort of problems—the man was supposed to be perfect.

Ash tried not to send glares in _Waterflower_ 's direction on his way to his desk, where he promptly flopped down, facing the redhead in question while she slunk into her seat naturally and started on whatever paperwork was left over from yesterday. He thought he would do the same, only, when he reached for the paperwork; like last week, they were gone.

His eyes flicked to the redhead, who sipping her coffee looked to have extra bags under her eyes. No way did she take his paperwork—she would sooner use the chance to throw him under the nearest bus; Gary wouldn't help him, and Paul was, well, _Paul_.

As most of his mornings started, he scampered around the small detective's unit, searching for papers that _should_ have been placed on his desk the night prior—the stack that one Misty Waterflower left him everyday for the last week to have complete and yet somehow it was always missing and replaced the next day.

Stopping at his chair, he slumped down with a battered sigh, and Misty took the opportunity to sneer at him.

"What's the matter, did'ya lose something?"

"Yeh, actually. My files— _again_."

" _Again?_ " She echoed mockingly. Ash sat forward.

"Do you know something about this?"

Then those lips, pink with the faintest color of lip gloss turned into a pout, followed by her painfully derailing and nerve wrecking smirk. "Well I dunno, maybe it's because all files are supposed to be finished and turned into the chief of police at the end of the day?"

Ash scoffed. "So you've just been taking incomplete work in to her?"  
"Well, _maybe_ you shouldn't leave it incomplete."

"Are you two done?" Paul sauntered into the room from his corner holding a case file, and straightening his tie—he looked oddly professional himself today. Did Ash forget something? Suddenly, his mind raced as if it were a live wire, and while Paul lectured the two of them, he stole glances to his calendar.

"Well, he's done." Misty gloated. "I'm just getting' started." Misty practically sung, like some teenage girl, shortly before the ill-conceived victory speech. She clicked her heels together and marched from her desk to Paul's side, and smiled at her detective before twisting her shoulders eagerly.

"As you both should know, we're attending your first official court session for the defense of Ms. Abby Carter." She paused, staring at Ash. "You both read the defendants file, I assume?"

The way she bat her eyes in his direction made his fingers curl into his jeans. Casual Friday was apparently out, and hell's jaws opened up and swallowed him. _Good to know_. She was right, he left that file, _homework_ , he earlier joked about it, at home this morning, and never bothered to read it—he recalled Misty speaking briefly about a court case today, but _this_ wasn't that court case, right? No way would they throw him at something as important as the Abby Carter case on his first week! He wasn't exactly prepared to represent someone he didn't know—and had no clue about the case file...or worked on the assignment. Suddenly panic flooded into his eyes, and she would have been damned if she missed it, because that same snark smirk passed over her lips.

She was a demon, crawled from hell's snapping jowls and he was the gate keeper that got swallowed up on the way out.

"Of course, if you haven't, and you came to work today in jeans and-"

"That's enough detective Waterflower." Jenny's voice echoed from behind her, and that flare of hostility fled from Misty's eyes, exchanged for what Ash could only assume was anxiety.

"No need to scare them this early in the morning. They're not actually speaking to the jury this time, they're only observing." While the blue-haired woman turned to face her four detectives, she nodded off to Gary who seemed oddly unaware of any hostility—and surprising lack of wit; skimmed over Paul and Misty, then landed directly on Ash, who froze upon her gaze.

"...Ketchum, what are you wearing?" And once more, Misty was squeamish in her joy, she could hardly contain.

"...casual...Friday?" Ash squeaked, though he was suddenly under the impression such a thing didn't exist here. Coming to the big city was a lot different than the farms, for sure.

"Casual Friday, Ketchum?" She echoed, "Did I hear that right?"

"Yes, ma'am." He looked down, at his finger nails. _What else was he supposed to say_?

A long pause followed, he was dead for sure—ruined. She would have his badge for this disrespect! Showing up to work on a court date dressed like a hillbilly. And damn, Ash brushed his chin over the stain on his shirt to keep it from her view, he should have had cereal that morning for breakfast.

"Well, this doesn't surprise me." Jenny barked and at the comment Gary finally seemed to brighten up just a bit.

" _Wateflower_!" She shouted at the tops of her lungs, shooting glances of surprise in all directions from Ash, to Misty who looked absolutely astounded by Jenny's loud remark—followed by the snatching of her folder files from her hands and what Ash thought was going to be a lecture.

Misty stood her ground, though Ash might have passed out at the glare Jenny breathed. Her amber eyes seemed red under the glow of the dimly lit detective's unit before she spoke again.

"He is _your_ junior detective, and therefore your responsibility! This is possibly the most sensitive case this department has had in _years_ and you let him come to work in that? You're a disgrace!" She breathed. "Do you think this is a _game_?!"

"I'm sorry, chief." Misty drew in a breath, her sarcastic whip still functioning when she added; "But I don't _dress_ him. I didn't tell him to come to work in that."

Ash thought he saw Paul move a couple inches away when Jenny wheeled back around, her face inches from Misty's.

"He is _your_ responsibility, and don't think I don't know about those files, _Waterflower. Y_ ou have this fixed before court this afternoon or its your head on the chopping block."

"Or, he could stay here like all the rest of the hicks from Pallet Farms."

Ash's mouth fell open, eyes wide and gravely insulted by Misty's fierce comment. Was she not terrified of Jenny? The woman looked as if she could snap her neck.

"You know what that's an excellent idea-" Jenny crooned, holding the papers that belonged to Misty out to Gary Oak, to which Paul gestured with a faint turn of his head for Gary to grab. "If you think it's so important to have some personal vendetta against your partner, then you can stay here with him. Gary has the same degree as you, I'm sure his appearance in court as your stand-in will suffice."

Now that temper behind Misty's eyes finally cleared, her hip locked and she lowered her shoulders. Furious beyond expression—a look he knew from his mother.

"Now, when I come back at five sharp today, I want to see progress; or as far as I'm concerned, you can both go." She paused to wait for a quip from Misty. "Do I make myself clear, detective?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." And Ash saw Jenny go from angry, to cheerful in a split second when she turned back to a mortified Gary, and stoic Paul.

"Now, let's discuss this in my office. We'll need to catch you up, Oak."

"...Yes, ma'am." Gary uttered quietly, petrified, and had Ash not been doing flips at the victory he just witnessed in his corner, he might have felt joyful at Gary's predicament.

Once the three of them were gone, and the door was shut; Misty's gaze fell harshly on Ash. She was the snake, and he a small rat. His mouth was dry, and his first instincts were to rub it in, remind her that being a witch doesn't necessarily win her the day—but he didn't have to say any of that, Misty saw it reflected in his eyes and as she cracked her neck before taking a seat at her desk; he finally breathed.

"That was a little intense, wasn't it?" he chuckled, trying to ease the tension.  
"Shut up." She hissed venomously and Ash shot her a nasty glare.

"You know, if you wouldn't be so mean maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"If _you_ wouldn't be so damn lazy maybe I wouldn't have to be."

"You have problems, you know!"

"Yeah, _I do_!" She screamed, very clearly indicating that her problem was _Ash_ before storming out of the detectives unit and leaving him.

 **XOX**

Misty was not gone for more than thirty minutes before she returned with a much cooler head; and while ignoring Ash, she returned to whatever paperwork she had left on her desk by clicking and tapping on the keys of her keyboard while Ash shifted through some of his own work—what little he had of it. Since he was still in probation, his paperwork went first to Misty, and then to him. Since she was currently ignoring him, he had no official paperwork to attend to, and busied himself with private affairs; the last of his transfer paperwork, a few minor projects given directly to him from Jenny, and then for the last half hour, rocked back and forth in his chair, and stole glances from the clock.

A quarter to nine, and neither had spoken since the incident. Furthermore, this was the first time he spent more than ten minutes with the woman. Usually, she was out on field work, tending to some incident that he wasn't invited to. Every once in awhile, he saw her talking with the morgue-guy, Bill, about some photographs—occasionally, he saw her speaking with Samuel Oak, and on the rare occasion, Clemont from tech. None of these people were scared of her, in fact, she was _friendly_ with most of them—just not him. Or anyone like him. Like Casey and Ritchie, they seemed to find her demonic, too.

"Stop staring." She ordered, and Ash fell mid-lean in his chair and cleared his throat.

"I'm not."

"Can't you find something to do?"

"Depends on if you can give this hick some work. You know, I might not know how to read." he mocked her, siting forward and pressing his elbows into the desk. She shot him a glare, then busied herself once more. Time ticked by in the quiet until Ash finally exhaled.

"Listen, I know you don't like me, and _whatever_ , that's your thing—but I don't think Jenny was joking about what she said. We should get along and sort...whatever out."

"And you think that can happen in a day?" Misty glowered at him. "Hey, why don't we braid each others hair?"  
"Hey, I'm just trying to be sensible." Ash barked back at her while folding his arms in a huff.

"That would be a first." She taunted with a roll of her eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, _that would be a first_." She blinked up at him, apparently ready to duke this out. Ash didn't back down from her glare, instead, he matched it with one of his own. "You walk in here like you own the place, leave without finishing your work, complain to you coworkers, slack off, and, oh, yeah, humiliated me in front of the whole department."

"I said I was sorry!"  
"No, y _ou didn't_!" She shouted back at him and Ash wilted.

"You think it's funny to talk about me, how _evil_ I am, and how I make you do paperwork? Yeah, I do, because that's fair. Paul went through it, everyone who has ever graduated from the academy went through it-"

"-but you're letting Gary-"

"Who graduated from university—god, for a detective you're so dense! We keep the ones with field work behind a desk, and the ones with book work on the field—it's how we know if you're top notch! But you're too busy throwing pencils into the ceiling and doodling on your mouse pad to notice!"

"Well maybe you should have told me!"

"You're a detective, now! Figure it out!"

Ash didn't have a response for that, only a twitch with his lips. "Well!" he breathed, and Misty ripped the papers she printed from her printer and held them out.

"You're in charge of me, you should be telling me these things!" his voice rubbed her the wrong way, apparently, because she rested the papers down, pressed her index and middle finger against her temple and gave a solid rub before hissing at him.

"So I'm supposed to what, dress you, tell you how to act, when to speak, how to speak; what should I do next, feed you and change your diapy?"

"You're infuriating, you know that?"

"No!" She snapped, " _You're_ infuriating!"

"I spilled coffee on you and that's grounds to hate me? I think I win!" He shouted back at her, and he heard the rest of the building go quiet.

"It has nothing to do with that! It has everything to do with _you_! You shouldn't be here!"

"I worked just as hard as you!"

"Did you?" She breathed, and then finally held up the papers she had been reading over.

"Ash Ketchum; graduated at the bottom of his class, traffic cop for Pallet Farms—known for exactly two arrests; a shop lifting incident, and a domestic dispute over _what to have for dinner_!" She read out loud to him and Ash's shoulder's raised.

"You're not allowed to read those." She held up her finger to silence him.

"His most recent criminal record includes petty theft, breaking and entering, and one count of assault, all before the age of eighteen."

"Those were thrown out in court!" Ash lashed out, racing around the department to rip the pages from her hands and move backwards.

"What you're missing is none of this is detective experience. You're not a detective! You took a test and did surprisingly well but you have no experience on or off the field outside of general traffic violations! Which is pathetic because I'm sure you're really smart if you'd just apply yourself!"

"I apply myself!"

"No, you come to work, you read the papers—you gossip about our coworkers like some high school idiot and you leave everyday regardless of what is happening in the police station—your shift is over at five, and you're done!"

"So? I have a life outside of here, you can't hate me for that. And you haven't given me a chance!"

"You're right! But it's how you handle it. Those files were supposed to be done at the end of the day, and because _you_ left them behind _, I finished them_. And you didn't just do this once, you were convinced I was bullying you, so you flaked on them all week!"

"Well-!"

"Work doesn't just _end_ , Ketchum! If you wanted a job you could leave everyday at the end of your shift, go find a supermarket to work for; this department is in chaos right now without you humiliating-" she stopped herself, apparently even _she_ knew that was too far. "We need good cops, good officers, and good detectives—not little boys with a hero complex! This isn't supposed to be _fun_ and games!"

"You don't even know me!"

"You're right, which is why I don't know why they hired you! You're not ready for this in anyway!"

Ash stared at her for a long time, before the only suiting comment he could musty fell out of his lips. "...You're a bitch."

And she froze, nodded at him with pursed lips, and the grabbed her hand bag.

"Say it louder for the people in the back." and then she was gone, leaving Ash sitting at his desk and putting his head down on top of his crossed arms.

After a few moments, he rubbed his tired eyes, they were burning—but he wasn't going to _cry_ , no, no, Ash Ketchum didn't cry, but it felt like he might. Never in his life had he imagined this would be so difficult—and apparently, it was supposed to be that way.

He glanced back down at his list of _accomplishments_ , and then shoved them into the garbage bin beside him without another word.

 **XOX**

Misty came back a little after noon. Ash was positive she went to the court case to watch from the sidelines, but didn't mention that when she walked back in. She had a fresh cup of coffee in her hands, and a new scowl on her face. After their last dispute, he was positive she would ignore him for the rest of their existence, or try to get him fired. Instead, she walked directly to his desk where he had been sulking the better part of the day, and set a foam cup beside him.

"What's that?"

"Coffee." She breathed, leaning against his desk. Roasted coffee beans swirled into his nostrils, forcing him to sit up and stare at her—he didn't have a strong taste for coffee, but since she wasn't yelling at him, he wasn't going to refuse it, either.

"Is it poisoned?" he joked somberly, but she didn't chuckle.

"I'm not good at apologies." her abrupt confession brought his eyes to the back of her head, and he leaned into his chair, confused.

"I'm sorry for being so hard on you." She grumbled, and while it wasn't the most sincere notion he had ever heard. He'd take it.

"It's okay. Sorry for leaving you so much extra work."

"It's fine. I had to do it before you were here, anyways." She slumped off, into the chair in front of his desk, and offered a sort of smile. Only then did he see the brown folder clasped in her hands—the file he recognized as the one he was supposed to read last night.

"I just..." she breathed, he could tell this whole _being friendly_ thing was something of a chore for her. She looked strained. "We lost so many good cops these last few months...I mean, look at us, there's only four detectives. We don't even have branches anymore."

Ash didn't speak.

"And sometimes, I forget that all of those _good_ cops weren't _good_. They were bad. But they were so amazing at what they did—so when I see you, this fresh face from _Pallet Farms_ , of all places, it's infuriating and a sore reminder..."

"That's what the court case was about today, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, taking out the garbage. I knew a lot of those people that we've put in jail. Some of them I have known since I joined the force..." She looked insanely uncomfortable, and Ash wasn't feeling ready for a sob story, so he shrugged his shoulders.

"So?"

Misty's anger flared behind her green eyes once more, her natural scowl falling onto her lips and she crossed her knees.

"I don't like you. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve a fair shot, too." She inhaled. "I just need to know that you know that being a cop is a lot more than a title."

"I know." he said quickly, eyebrows knit together. "My dad was a cop. I _know_."

Misty's expression seemed to soften at the knowledge, but she cleared her throat. "Then it's settled. I'll pick you up at noon tomorrow. That's 12:00pm, not 12:15 or 12:30. Noon."

Stunned, Ash sat forward, eyebrows narrowed while she gathered her notes and letters and prepared to leave. Awestruck, words wouldn't form on his tongue.

"What?" he wheezed.

"Well, you heard the chief." She grinned deviously. "I have to dress you now, too."

Ash's heart stopped in that instant, and his face turned a sheet of pure white. He couldn't breath, let alone think.

"Now, take the rest of the day off before Jenny comes back and sees you dressed like that."

Ash's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again and he shook his head in utter confusion—only able to speak after she disappeared into the corridor, back to the front of the station where she would likely be finishing up her own field work. His head was spinning.

" _What_?"

 **XOX**

"She's absolutely nuts!" Ash shouted at Brock, holding his head and ruining his spiky hair even more.

"One second, she acts like she hates me, and in the next second, she's asking me—telling me I have to see her tomorrow. _On my day off_ , Brock!"

Across from him sitting on a red and green reclining chair, Brock rubbed his hands together while Ash explained the most irritable scenarios he had been through over the last week. How Misty gave him work, forgot to mention it was supposed to be done before he left—though apparently it was implied. Ash wouldn't have even stopped in at Brock's place a mile out of the city if it weren't for the dire situation he found himself in—what was he supposed to do?  
"You could tell her no...?" Brock mumbled while rolling his shoulders. Ash sent him a nasty glare as a formidable response.

"No? Are you kidding me? This is the first time she's ever treated me decently. I can't say no."

"Well," Brock breathed, standing up. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know!" Ash shouted, falling back against the couch and sighing loudly. He definitely wasn't liking this _female_ partner thing. "...I'm gonna be sick."

"Yeah, probably because the first thing you went for in the fridge was my alcohol. Give it here." Brock snapped the bottle from Ash's fingertips, who was still too disgruntled to form a coherent thought.

"Right." Ash slurred, holding his head to contain the rapid increase in his thoughts. "She told me I didn't know what it was to be cop."

"Really?"

"Well, maybe not in so many words! But she implied it!"

"Implied it? Ash, c'mon, you don't think you're being dramatic?"

"She called me lazy, and said I wasn't supposed to be leaving when my shift was scheduled to end—oh, and-"

"Shh!" Brock hissed, slapping his hand over Ash's mouth to silence his complaints. They had been over this a million times already. Around, and around and around they went, and Ash always came to the same conclusion.

"She's crazy."

But Brock couldn't argue with him about that.

"We already knew that..."

"I have nightmares about her, Brock. Like actual nightmares, where she shoots me the moment my back is turned—and to think this isn't all about spilling coffee on her." Here they went again, the Ash Ketchum spiel of nonsense over his crazy partner—for a guy upset with her, he really liked to talk about her.

"Hey, actually, that reminds me!" Brock snapped his fingers, shooting from his chair and into the small bedroom of his apartment.

The older man was still in his pajamas—Friday's were his lazy days, and the only day he had off of school and work. Ash didn't pity him, Brock was in pre-med, and running a cafe with snobs. Both were full time positions and Ash ruined his only day off with his own immature fears. Some friend he was. Brock had placed tea down on the table an hour ago when Ash first arrived, but he neglected to touch it in favor of venting, and wanting to pull his hair out. Now, with Brock gone somewhere, he leaned forward to steal a biscuit from the table and slouched back bitterly.

What did he do to deserve this?  
"Here, I knew the name was familiar, and I was right. This is an article from a few months ago."

Ash mashed his lips together while taking the paper and skimming over the front page—he could recognize that red hair anywhere—but the picture was clearly _wrong_ , because she looked sad. In fact, she looked devastated standing outside of City Hall beside Chief Jenny and Paul.

The article read about events Ash vaguely remembered—the incidents occurred during exam weeks, and Pallet Farms wasn't known for sharing big news with the City. Even though they were a suburb of the city, they were partially in a world of their own by comparison.

The day the police department fell apart. Six detectives, three officers, and several unnamed employees of the department were sentenced to prison and court for several criminal acts. The most devastating blow came from the betrayal of their lead detective; Red. He carried a jarring sixteen criminal offenses and was still in trial for twenty-five years, to life.

Worst of all, it was former partner, detective Misty Waterflower, who found the information about the former lead detective, and turned him in. This accusation lead to a bleach and wash of the station, resulting in the most cuts the department had seen since the flood of '67, and a hole the size of the Alantic ocean to fill. A federal investigation was filed—and was under full control of recent hires for the next year.

Ash gulped.

Suddenly, all the back-handed comments, absurd references and tiresome busy work made perfect sense. They weren't short staffed because of a hiring issue, they were short staffed because half the police were found suspect of criminal activity, and only the brave and loyal remained. How could he forget a detail like that?

Ash set the paper down and sucked on his cheeks to bite on them.

"See, she's not a bad cop. Under all of that hostility, I'm sure she has good intentions."

Ash stared blankly at Brock for a very, very long time before speaking again.

"So she wants me to admit that I'm a criminal warlord, or something?"

"Hey, you are a hick from Pallet Town, only god knows what you've been up to." Ash answered his sarcastic reply by throwing a pillow at his head.

 **Author's Note** :

Ahh, and the plot thickens.

So, here's the thing. I needed a reason there weren't a lot of detectives, and also I wanted to include who the former Lead detective was—I don't think I mentioned him in the last chapter—but anyways, the Misty/Red association comes from the manga/games before the anime (or during..?) I originally had the original partner someone else, but I felt like this was more suiting. It also explains why hey hired on Ash and Gary, and so on and so forth—you know, plot! Mostly I needed a reason to be short staffed so I can forgo the several hundred branches of detective units (-shrugs-) PLUS, I would think Ash could be a great detective, but he is no Reacher or O'Dell. He has a long way to go. Also, I ff'd up, a little on story 'details' regarding the scenario of becoming a detective, but i'ma keep it to myself, maybe no one will notice!

Fun story; my uncle is a cop, in this scenario, he was Ash. He was literally told to go home and have the lead detective dress him because he apparently couldn't do it himself. (I'm sorry, I had to include it)

Misty and Ash are paralleling the first few episodes: She gets mad, she says mean things, finally, she notices how much he does care, and lightens up a little.

Thank you for any reviews -hearts- I hope you enjoy. :D

NINT


	4. Chapter 4: but it's not--

**So You Want To Be A Cop, Chapter 4**

Ash's entire morning schedule was a mess, and trying to explain to his mother the events was like being a swimmer on the titanic. Lots of sinking, lots of drowning, no hope for survival unless he was on a life raft. _And even if he had been_ on a life raft, his would have had a hole in it and several hundred sharks surrounding him with the possibility of bombs.

Simply put, Ash Ketchum was freaking out.

"No, mom, it's _not_ a date." Ash chimed in for the hundredth time while grabbing his sleeved vest.

It wasn't a date after all, he was technically being conned into this. Jenny insisted he didn't fit the profile of a detective, and, hey, had she been wrong before? Delia wasn't as impressed with his confession—he spent the whole morning doing things Ash would have never dreamed of on a Saturday—like combing his hair, showering before noon, and wearing denim jeans without holes in them. Even Pikachu barked comments of puppy-concern but Ash hardly noticed.

He had a date—that wasn't a date—with the devil today, and he wanted to be ready for anything. If he was going to die, he would do so with his dignity, damn it. Exaggerations aside, he and Misty shared a rocky acquaintanceship at best. _Rivalries_... _nemesis_.

Gary was his rival. Misty was his nemesis. It made _perfect_ sense. Ash slammed his palm against his cheek to regroup. If he hadn't forgotten to set his alarm, he wouldn't be in such a hurry right now!

"Well, I think you should wear a button up for you _not-date_." Delia cooed to him, holding up the patched jacket Misty swat down the previous day, as well as a white button-up. Ash refrained from making a comment. Delia loved that jacket.

"No, I'm fine in this, mom." Ash assured her with a forced grin. He had to stop himself from shaking and his teeth were chattering nonstop. After all, he looked perfectly normal, and casual in his blue jeans, black tee-shirt and blue and white sleeved vest. He had no reason to look better, after all, it was just Misty. It wasn't a date. He wasn't being judged on his professional appearance _today_. It was his day off.

Since he ignored any of Delia's previous comments, she finally flipped her mom card and crossed her arms.

"I still think going out this early is a bit unprofessional. And not telling me-!"

"Mom!" A horrified Ash shrieked as the doorbell sang to them. Where would he begin? The fact that he would sooner catch a bullet, or throw himself onto a live grenade before even _thinking_ about _that_!

Ash held up a finger to his mother in warning to keep quiet as he traced back from the first floor bathroom, and through to the front door where he swung it open, and stepped outside before Misty and his mother could make introductions. The door slammed shut behind him, and he had not regrets.

Standing on the steps, looking as pristine and frustrated as always, was one Misty Waterflower. He was horrified to see that she was still in work clothes. Dressed in black slacks and a matching black blazer with a red under shirt. She paired her sharp outfit with black, heeled boots and dark sunglasses. She even had her hair tied back into a pony tail and he pursed his lips in confusion.

Before the question reached his lips, she turned.

"I'm on lunch." She confirmed, and then waved him toward her sleek, blue impala. The same vehicle he quietly cursed the day before.

From the living room window as they walked, he could see his mother mouthing to him advice, and obscene hand gestures. He prayed Misty wouldn't look up to see his mother's asinine expressions and tucked his face behind his hands in embarrassment. This was like the prom incident all over again.

Misty slid into the drivers side without a single glance back to his house, and Ash followed suit.

"So...You're working today?" He guessed, based on her take-no-prisoners attitude. "But it's Saturday?"

"Yes, we work on weekends, too. Every other week. This weekend is mine, next weekend is Paul's. Since you and Gary are still _new_ , we decided that we would keep you out of the loop until you've adapted."

 _Maybe I would have adapted if you hadn't left me at a desk for-_ Ash bit his tongue. Anything he said could and would be used against him, and none of it was safe while he was in her car, at her mercy, driving from his small farm house, and onto the main drag of road leading into the Saffron area. Trying not to pull on his collar, he cleared his throat instead. It was too damn quiet in this car, but he did not dare to reach for the radio switch.

"So, great. We work two weekends of the month—do we get a day off other than that?"

"Sometimes." She exhaled, and Ssh could finally smell the coffee on her breath. "Some days you might work fourteen days straight. It comes with the territory."

The doors locked, and she sped up to reach top speed on the highway and Ash sat back, looking around. An uncomfortable silence settled as he watched other traffic disappear with a woosh and he sat back. He was really wishing he had something to eat that morning, his stomach was doing flips—what was he doing, anyways? Ash Ketchum didn't get scared!

"Where are we going?" He asked, trying to raise his confidence. Misty wasn't scary, he tried to tell himself, she was a bully—and why should he back down from that?

"First things first." Misty hummed, eyes never leaving the road. "We have rules."

"Rules?" And suddenly this felt like a kidnapping! Not that he had any interest in rolling onto the road going 100 kilometers an hour, but he was certainly feeling the hostility of the situation.

"First of all, Jenny's biggest pet peeve is tardiness. _Mine_ , is laziness." She shot him a dirty glance. "But we've already clarified that. Paul's is, well, everything. He's not easy to get along with. Jenny is good so long as you don't get on her bad side—this means agreeing with everything she says. If you have a problem, she expects a written complaint, not gossip."

Misty swerved around another car, speeding up and Ash gulped.

"Okay."

"Next, our dress code is pretty simple. Slacks of gray, black or tan. A nice button up shirt of any color, and matching jackets to go with your slacks. A professional look for our professional job. We don't allow flannel and patched suit jackets as a general rule of thumb, mostly because it looks tacky. Also because who would take you seriously in that?" She gave him a side glance, though Ash didn't give her the joy of seeing his teeth grit.

"Alright, I need better clothes. I'll keep that in mind." His eyes narrowed, watching the road. The car was smooth, Misty handled her well, but they were still going too fast, and only going _faster_. She cut into an exit lane, and his breath finally caught up with him.

"That being said; unspoken rules include sticking around until what you've been assigned for the day is done, and all paperwork and information vital to any searches are tucked away behind the proper locked doors. We don't leave files on our desks over night unless they're placed in our locked file cabinets—that _is_ why you have filing drawers in your desk." She glanced at him again, and Ash huffed. "We don't gossip about fellow employees to our friends, and certainly don't hold grudges. To keep the staff civil we handle our problems like adults—HR handles the rest."

Ash couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"You're one to talk."

"We're are talking, aren't we?" She smirked knowingly, and this time Ash pinched his nose in frustration.

"Alright, we have rules—silly rules—since we're adults, and all— _now_ , can you slow down?"

His complaint came as a surprise, her eyes flaring under her glasses, Misty didn't seem to notice she was driving fast at all until he pointed it out, and slowed to a crawl as she turned into the Celadon shopping district.

"Sorry, habit." She hummed, though a voice of insincerity plunged his ears and he glared up at her. She circled around a few times to find a formidable parking spot, probably to be certain her car wouldn't be damaged, and then threw the car in park.

A shopping mall was their destination. Apparently, she really _was_ going to dress him. At least it wasn't the worst scenario he envisioned. Ash tried to hide his frustration when he stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut.

"Hey, don't slam it! This isn't a rust bucket like yours. You don't need to slam anything!" She shouted, holding her hands up and removing her glasses. It was the first time he heard sincere nd genuine worry in her voice. She cared more about the car than she did him, apparently. Without her dark glasses, she looked so young, at least 20 or so, but Ash knew that couldn't be right. Ash twisted his lips as they marched side by side into the mall.

Ash looked like a softball player next to a lawyer. His jacket was reminiscence of his teenage years, and she looked overly professional. His eyes turned to her face once again. She had no visible wrinkles, no laugh lines or signs of aging—he did notice that she wore faint traces of mascara and eyeliner, but made no comment. She has been on the force for at least four years, and graduated from a university with some criminal justice degree. If he had to guess, she was at most twenty-five.

"How old are you?" He suddenly blurted out unsure of why he even cared to begin with. Misty shot him a nasty glare, then rolled her eyes. _Right_ , he didn't care, he was only wanting to break the ice.

"Thirty eight." She mocked, and Ash saw for the first time that morning her sarcastic grin and he deadpanned.

"You are not."

"What if I am? Does it matter?" She hissed, walking backwards up the steps and saluting him mockingly as she walked through the main entrance doors.

The mall entrance—Ash wasn't sure he had ever walked into it before. Or at least not since he was some snot-nosed teenager hanging out around the fountain just to have something to do. He had a faze in high school where even _he_ wanted to be cool. Unfortunately, girl watching at the mall never stuck, and after his sixteenth birthday, he never stepped foot in this place again.

Staring at it now, it seemed a lot bigger. The ceilings were vaulted with windows at the top; two stories of nothing but people bustling around them, the distant smell of a food court, and escalators at the end of a very long walk—and of course, an elevator.

"This place is huge."  
"Don't tell me you've never been here..." She started but the look Ash gave her was a strong indication that it was _not_ his first time.

"I've been here. I just...don't make a habit of..." He saw prices stuck to the windows of some of the stores they passed, and quickly remembered why he had inevitably stopped shopping at these places. Everything was expensive. Catching his gaze, Misty tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to follow.

"Don't worry, there's a fairly priced shop in here that gives discounts to people like us."

"You mean cops?" because she certainly didn't mean _poor_. She owned an impala, after all!

"Shh!" She whipped around, pressing her index finger to his lip; he flinched, believing that she would have tried to slap him. "Don't say that!" She added in a low voice, looking around to see if anyone had heard then shifted her weight away from him. No one seemed to notice or care, too caught up in their own lives to even glance at the two of them.

"Why not?" he argued, rubbing his arm and instinctively licking his lips. She wore lotion, something of a vanilla scent, and damn it, why was he smelling it now? Stupid girls and their girly habits. Ash huffed as she turned her back to him and started down the crowded space of the mall.

"Because we're not always well liked, and besides, it's good practice to remain unknown. It gives you an advantage."

Ash kept on her heels while she lead him around a few bends, but his eye trained on the food court, remembering how little he had to eat that morning upon dreading his _da—out_ ting with Misty.

"Yeah, well, aren't we published in the news, anyways?"

"You really think the whole city reads that? Let alone will remember what we look like?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, but didn't stop. "Especially you. Did you suddenly decide to stop trying all together or something?"

Ash let himself sigh, this time unrestrained as he glared up at her and ran his hands through his hair. Was he supposed to _try_ to dress nice on his days off? He looked casual—there was no way that she dressed in slacks every single day, either. However, instead of mentioning that, he smiled. He didn't bother with gel this morning and now that he saw reflections of himself in passing window-display reflections, he felt oddly self-conscious. The less ammunition he said, the sooner this would be over.

After arriving at the small shop— _PK's League_ _—_ Misty marched him immediately over to what looked to be wedding attire—or suits designed for lawyers. Who knew appearance was so important—he thought skill and efficiency would take priority, but _nope_ apparently, dressing nice was just as important as catching criminals. Concentrating on the fold of a particular black one, Misty whistled at him as if he was some kind of dog. With a glare, he looked up from the blazer to see her standing around a forty-five percent off rack, and his body shuddered.

"If I have to buy for you, we're not paying full price." She mumbled, grabbing a few white, button-ups. "About what size are you?" She asked, thumbing through a pile of neatly folded tops.

Ash watched her carefully remove a medium and unfolded it effortlessly before holding it up against his chest without warning.

"H-hey." He grumbled, the last person to have done this to him was his mom in elementary school. Since then, he bought all of his own clothes.

"...Mmm. You might be a large because of your height." she deduced, turning away from him once more to retrieve the clothing.

"Agh." he gawked, taking a few steps backwards. This was embarrassing, and the heat rising to his face reminded him of that. To _think_ , a twenty-one year old police officer getting dressed by a co-worker. _Oh, Brock would love this_. The only woman who had ever dressed him was his mom—and May, for that time in high school when they were supposed to go to homecoming as a group and Ash missed the _formal_ memo. He probably had _that_ suit in his closet somewhere—if they were supposed to dress formal, maybe that would work, it might be a little snug, now, but a suit was a suit.

The store was mostly empty for as busy as the rest of the mall was—it was still morning traffic, which consisted of older couples and moms. Teenagers wouldn't swarm the place until late afternoon, and he wanted to be out of here by then.

"I can find stuff myself." He jerked away from her, moving toward a mannequin wearing a blue plaid button up with a black tee-shirt beneath. "What about this? I won't look so stiff."

"You're supposed to look stiff. That's the point." said Misty while walking up to him, holding several different button ups.

"Why is that the point?"

"Well," Misty paused, thumbing through a set of blue shirts. "How would you feel if you were being threatened by a guy, and a man walked up wearing tank top and cut offs?" She paused to watch his reaction—he winced at the image. "It's just dress code. Girls have a little more lee-way, but after we at least start your closet, I'm sure it won't be too hard to get you into the groove of proper attire."

Ash sighed. "I miss wearing a uniform already."

Surprisingly, she snickered.

"Yeah, me too."

Without pause, she was approaching him, holding a bundle of different clothes.

"I figure you'll try on one to find your size, and we'll get you a few in every color... pants might be an issue—Do you know what size you are? You could easily be a medium-" As her gaze fell to his waist, Ash jolted in embarrassment, and fell backwards into the set of mannequins he had been standing near, knocking several of them over, as well as a display.

Misty coughed in surprise, mouth ajar as she looked at the frantic young man with wide eyes. By his reaction, he looked like she threw him—but she hadn't even touched him. If his face had been red before, it was three shades darker now, with the help of his clumsiness, he saw Misty standing in the isle, holding her face and shaking her head as a store clerk approached them.

 **XOX**

After the spout of indecency and half the destruction of the store's display, Ash was happy to see that Misty was at least smiling easier—making a huge joke of the situation.

"I can't believe you told them I pushed you." She glowered, holding a brown bag.

Ash carried three bags, all with the _PK league_ logo on the side as they exited the store. The rest of the time spent in the store hadn't been any easier. She was all business. Pressing boundaries she shouldn't have been and passing judgment on his attire. In the end, he bought three different kinds of button-ups. Two white to wear beneath the two new suit jackets he was somehow conned into purchasing, and five pairs of black slacks; one pair of dress shoes that felt more like sneakers— _thank god—_ and an over the shoulder holster to conceal his weapon, and badge—and really anything else he might need beneath his jacket.

She also wasn't joking about the prices. Apparently the shop-owner was former-military and had a _thing_ for Misty. More importantly, that she used to be his best employee. She was still given the employee discount, considering she joined the police force right after graduating from Kanto City University.

She insisted that anything else Ash might need would be purchased over time—but _surely_ this was enough to get him through the next week. He would just have to wash his clothes more than once a month. Not that he didn't _already_ do that, darn it.

"So, you used to work there?"

"For a few years." Misty chimed as she stepped through the crowded areas without batting an eye. People split for her, and bumped into Ash. Where Misty looked like she had a destination and a mission, Ash was simply tagging along—and it showed.

"Why?"

"Had to pay for school. I used to work for them when they were still the small shop downtown, too. But that was in high school. Seems like that wasn't too long go, now..."

Ash coughed. "I worked to pay for the academy." his eyes twitched to her, expecting to see some hint of cynicism, instead, he saw curiosity.

"Yeah?" She asked, finally he earned her attention—not that he was trying, or anything. He stumbled over his words.

"Yeah, the academy isn't as expensive as school, but I had to work a bunch of different places to save up. One summer I worked as a farm hand for the Oak's actually. That was a mess, I gotta tell ya; they own all this land and don't do anything with it. Ol' man Oak says he wants to turn it into a ranch when he retires, but mom thinks that he might not-." Realizing he had gone off on a tangent, Ash stopped, and looked at Misty, who was grinning, but looking forward.

"I forgot that you've known them for awhile; or that Oak is originally from Pallet Farms." her face softened.

"See, we're not all hicks." He muttered, pursing his lips and watching as a small blush crept over her cheeks, then diminished just as quickly.

"Well, no—just you." A grin tugged at her lips while she laughed and pushed through the large, glass exit doors. "Sorry, by the way."

"It's fine." Ash breathed, blowing strands of his hair out of his face. "Sorry for calling you a, well, you know." They didn't look at each other, but Misty's tongue in cheek response was expected.

"A _bitch_?" She snorted. "You don't get out much, do you?"

She was making fun of him, just when he thought this wasn't going nearly as bad as he expected it would. He huffed. "Maybe I just don't like to swear."

"Then I must have really made you angry." She laughed, as if it were all second nature to her.

They arrived at her car without him realizing it; his anger was stewing now. Was she looking down on him?  
"Yeah, well, you told me I wasn't ready to be a cop. You do realize I've been training for over a year now?" he slipped into the passenger seat, and Misty flipped on her glasses.

"If I recall, you called me that _before-_ " she went to correction him, but Ash threw up his hands in a huff after tossing his bags of clothes into the backseat. Just when he thought they were finally getting along.

"Just let it go, okay? I said I was sorry."

A moment of silence, the humor left her voice when she plugged the key into the ignition and turned over the engine.

"Alright then." She hummed, her glasses hiding whatever emotion she had. He knew that she must have been an impressive poker player, because he couldn't read her at all from his corner of the impala. Her attempt to keep the _no grudges_ rule was admirable, at least.

"Well..." he mumbled awkwardly, pulling at his collar and trying to hide his fidgeting. She started pulled out of the parking lot, he couldn't stand the suffocating quiet.

"Let me make it up to you—I owe you a coffee, anyways." Stammered the young police officer, crinkling his nose.

Only a single moment of hesitation, and then an honest, half-smile.

"Great, I haven't had lunch yet." His eyes widened at her response, so, maybe he offered expecting that she would decline.

"Well-" he started to rebuff, but she had already taken the initiative.

"There's this nice cafe near downtown Viridian that's pretty decent—The Pewter Gem? We can-"

"No!" Ash shouted abrasively, slamming his hands against the dashboard and she slammed on her breaks in response, startled.

"Why not?" She asked, confused by his emotional outburst.

"Uhhh." Ash started, unsure of a _nice_ way to explain that was where Brock worked, and May liked to hang out to make googly-eyes at her not-so-hidden crush, Drew. It was across the street from the central park where he took Pikachu out for a run and—well, it was just a bad idea! That cafe was off limits! Especially to Misty Waterflower, the demon spirit of his nightmares! So she wasn't as bad as he thought, but _still_ , the idea that the redhead knew that it was a _nice_ place made his stomach fill with rocks. She had to have been there before—and with any luck, she probably didn't recognize him, but that meant that Brock must have seen her at least once or twice. Oh man, Brock knew who she was. At least vaguely. Did they talk to each other, have normal conversations about _stuff?_

Ash's mouth was suddenly very dry when he finally spat; "Just...I heard that place sucks. They spit in the food or something."  
"Oh wow. Really?" She gasped, and he wasn't sure if she was mocking him, or sincere in her surprise. "They have the best donuts there... the baker who makes them—this older guy with dark hair."

"Brock." Ash addressed then immediately covered his face.

"His name is Brock?" Misty asked. "How did you know that?"

"Wild guess—could easily be Samuel, or some foreign name like Takeshi. You never know these days." he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck the way that he did when he was nervous. By now, Misty's left eyebrow had risen behind her bangs and Ash's heart beat rapidly.

"That's really a shame... I liked the jelly filled ones..." She muttered under her breath, Ash bit his tongue; so did he! Brock made the best of everything in the cafe, as well as the best, and only coffee Ash could stomach—mostly because it was high in sugar and low in a bitter.

"I'm sure there is some place else we can..." he spun to look at the buildings around him and sought out the first sign that wasn't in another language, and pointed.  
"Well, what about here?" Ash pointed to a big, pink sign labeled, 'Lumoise Bakery', while Misty switched lanes. "It looks promising, right?"

She didn't look convinced, staring at the pink, glowing neon sign lumbering high above the buildings with a small, cheesy arrow pointing to the location that was hidden behind taller buildings.

"Well..." She sighed—it wasn't like she was paying.

"The bakery it is." She said apathetically while pulling into the nearest exit lane, much to Ash's relaxation.

 **XOX**

The bakery wasn't as large as a normal cafe, but it was much more than a simple bakery. The walls were lined with yellow trim, and pink decoupage; sheer, cream colored curtains with lace trim hung at every window, and the small, white bistro tables felt more antique than cozy. Each small table was topped with a single pink rose in a tiny white vase, with complementary napkins and serving utensils. The counter top itself was covered in large glass sheets, and Ash could see people working in the background; past the many different kinds of pastries and sandwiches. He tried to keep his mouth shut in the awe of the cute building; how dainty and foreign his surroundings felt to the traditional, dark colored and roasted coffee familiarity associated with every other usual cafe-and bakery stop.

Ash wasn't even sure if they offered coffee, because he could only smell the distant scent of frosting. Mostly the building was inhabited by elderly couples that grew silent the very moment Misty stepped into the room. Her heels clicked loudly in the quiet dining area of the bakery and drew all eyes on the couple—duo, _damn it—_ Ash swore at himself, staring at each face. Wrinkled, dark eyes gazed back at him—except for the one female sitting in the corner table by herself, jotting an endless amount of information into her notebook. Misty's authoritative presence and domineering personality were nerve-wrecking even for those who didn't know her. Ash wondered if she knew that she had this kind of affect on people.

As they moved forward, the eyes followed him, and he felt something akin to embarrassment and anxiety. It wasn't everyday he turned heads the way that Misty did as she nonchalantly approached the counter to place an order. She had to have been used to this kind of treatment, because she flicked her sunglasses off, brushed her hair out of her face, and offered the warmest—kindest-crocodile smile Ash had ever seen.

"Hey there, I love the lights and cute ribbon in this place. It's like something from a Home-Life magazine."

And the tension was shattered, conversation livened up the room, and the odd strangers fell into the background. Ash was grateful.

"Thanks." The acne-covered teenager on the other side of the counter replied, a crooked smile over his braced teeth. Clearly, Ash noticed, that the young boy was unfamiliar with pretty women—not that Misty was pretty-talking so kindly to him. If only he knew the _real_ Misty Waterflower, he wouldn't think she was so pretty then. Not that Ash really knew the real her—maybe he was being a bit quick to judge? He glanced at her expression, hearing Brock's voice echoing in his head.

Ash sometimes hated how Brock's conscious was Ash's conscious.

"I'll have a large coffee, black, and two of those raspberry tarts." her lips pursed as she pointed to the glass. Ash waited for his cue from the man behind the counter to speak. Feeling judged and out of place, he wasn't sure what was okay to eat; so he ordered instead.

"I'll have the same thing." But he _hated_ the taste of black coffee, and he could leave raspberry tarts in favor of cinnamon—but if this was their nod to a better work environment, he would be damned if a difference in flavor choices was his down fall. He offered Misty a half-smile and she crinkled her nose in that unsure way that she did, and walked the distance to the end of the counter-top to collect her items when she spotted another object, and her face lit up.

"Oh, and two of these cheese clubs."

"Two?" Ash asked, eyeing the six-inch sandwiches. She had an appetite.

"Well, I figure since you'll probably order exactly what I ordered, anyways, I would save you the trouble." Then, she clapped him on the shoulder with that lop-sided smirk, and carried her tray off to a corner table away from prying, elder eyes.

Ash grit his teeth, but collected his meal. _Frickin' Waterflower know-it-all._

 **XOX**

Ash didn't know that a lunch could be so awkward. He couldn't remember a time when less than five words were said at a table since he was a member of the Pallet High's marching band and they had just been royally defeated by their rivals at Saffron High in the nationals. Back then, the silence was gritty and solemn; here, it was awkward and suffocating. Ash barely touched his sandwich, and hadn't bothered to pop the tab off the coffee regardless of the fact he hadn't eaten a real meal since yesterday's dinner.

Across the table from him, Misty wasn't having any issues at all, in fact, she seemed to take the tension with stride, or didn't feel it it all. Perhaps all of this tension was contrived in his head, because she finished three-fourths of her coffee and sandwich long before Ash had the gumption to tear the packaging off his raspberry tarts. In her hands since the moment she sat in the small, wooden seat, she read over the headlines of the newspaper, slurped her coffee and completely forgot his existence.

Ash took turns counting the tile, and watching the elderly couples leave the building with large, laughing expressions. Everyone in here seemed to be a couple—except the frazzled girl in the corner, who had set her head down on the table. He didn't see her order anything since they arrived thirty minutes ago, she only sat and muttered nonsense to herself that he couldn't hear over the chatter of the rest of the room. When he wasn't watching the odd-girl-out, he preoccupied his time by determining his partner's—whether he wanted her to be or not—age, and motive. Why she would suddenly be so nice and relaxed now—when she was prepared to bite his head off the last five days. Jenny must have had a massive influence over her, after all.

"Staring is rude, you know." She hummed behind her newspaper and Ash immediately looked anywhere else.

"I was trying to read the article on the back of the paper." He lied casually, crossing his arms. He was surprised when she nudged the last paper off the front, and handed it to Ash.

"You barely ate." She added, pointing at his food and Ash shrugged.

"Guess I wasn't as hungry as I thought."

"Hmm." Misty muttered, then went back to her paper. It took every nerve Ash had not to roll his eyes, and so he looked at anything else, flicked through the small end of the paper that she gave him; the obituaries section.

 _Oh boy_! This day just kept getting better. Feigning his interest, he skimmed through the most of the obituaries, until realizing none of the names of the files he was given were in the weekly listing.

"Hey, what about that guy you found, his name isn't listed?"  
"We haven't identified the body yet." Misty said while nonchalantly skimming the paper, upon closer inspection, he could tell that she wasn't really reading it now, and was watching Ash's expression.

"...Oh, that's pretty harsh."

She grimaced. "I know." She muttered, then sighed. "The guy who keeps... never mind."

"Never mind? How long are you planning on keeping me out of the loop? You know, we're supposed to be partners, and all I've done is paperwork on people that don't even show up _in the paper_."

"Keep your voice down." Misty hissed back at him setting the paper down and staring at him with narrowed eyes. Apparently she thought this ordeal was almost over as well, and he could now clearly see that she was only bidding time until he left. So, at least they were on the same page there.

"There's a time and a place for everything, and here isn't it. You're still getting the basics." He inhaled, he had to in order to stop himself from yelling at her, reminding himself that he only needed to survive a few more minutes and he would have the rest of the Saturday to kick back and wouldn't have to worry about any of this again until Monday. So, he bit his tongue, matched her glare for only a second, then looked away.

"Listen, you haven't been on this force for more than a week," _Of course there was always a lecture_. "We're not going to put on our top cases for you to _learn_."

"Well maybe a pair of fresh eyes never hurt anyone."

"You've never even seen a dead body, I can't take you to a crime scene, especially not one as vital as the TF-." she stopped herself, as if she had said to much and started to gather her things to get up when something sparked in Ash.

"That's not-"

"Get them off!" The shout startled Ash to his feet instantly, hand reaching for his belt and Misty spinning around to see that loner girl screaming loudly for no apparent reason.

"Get them off! Get them off!" She shouted, throwing herself backwards and then landing hard on the white chair behind her. Ash heard a snap, and prayed it wasn't the girl's back. The rest of the people, workers included, were in an uproar and racing to the scene when Misty rushed forward, badge out.

"Everyone stand back, KPD." She announced, voice authoritative as Ash followed her in. "Ma'am, are you alright?" Misty directed her question to the young girl who lunged forward and started screaming—or crying, he couldn't see past the strands of slick black hair matted to a sweaty forehead.

"Make it stop! Make the screaming stop!" She shouted, whining as she flung herself to Misty, who flinched, and kept the young woman an arm-length away.

"You need to calm down, ma'am, try to focus; there's no one here but us."

"Stoooooop!" The crazed woman screamed, grabbing her forehead and then immediately falling backwards, frothing at the mouth. In that instant, everything slowed down for Ash as Misty reached around to grab her phone to call in an ambulance or back up, he couldn't hear past the ringing in his ears. Misty then rushed for the vomiting girl. It was white foam mixed with a rust color red he wasn't entirely familiar with, _blood_ , it had to be blood. His stomach churned as Misty grappled her arms and helped her onto the ground in her best attempt to stabilize the young girl. Ash saw she was limp in Misty's arms, and also saw the look of panic wash over Misty's face while she grasped the woman's shoulders, shook her, then checked for a vital.

Did she just die suddenly? People didn't just _die_ like that.. did they?

Then, Misty ripped open the woman's blouse to clear space for accurate CPR after a startling pulse-check turned Misty's face pale. When she pressed her hands to the woman's chest, Ash looked away and was stunned to find himself deafened by the noise around him. He watched this girl for the last thirty minutes, and aside from quiet and frazzled—she wasn't crazy. Definitely not _dying_.

"Clear the area, I need space!" Misty screeched, bringing Ash back down to reality as he counted his rule book jargon back in his head.

"Detective, get these people out of here!" She shouted at him, but Ash blinked curiously at her, unsure of the proper response.

"Ash!" She shouted; and seconds later, his arms went up.

"Back up everyone, we need some room—I'm going to have to ask you to clear the area-!" And of course, it was never that easy. The textbook answer to a situation like this was never the accurate representation. These people were in a panic as well—watching as Misty frantically pressed her hands up then down on the young girl's chest to keep her heart beating until the familiar hum of the ambulance could arrive. Each person was desperate to help, to watch, to stare in disbelief.

"Move, people!" Ash added forcefully, and this time people responded by following one by one out the front door, and clearing space for the ambulance to arrive. Once the seating area was relatively clear, Ash rushed back to Misty, and almost lost the lunch he didn't eat. Beneath Misty's strong arms, the young woman started to hack aggressively, spitting up whatever slim and mucus cradled there.

But she was breathing again.

"Holy—is she okay?" Ash choked.

"I don't know. There must be internal bleeding or something." Misty huffed, pausing to turn the woman on her side and wipe her face clear of fluid. She winced, watching the young woman begin to hack on nothing more than her own blood and saliva.

"Listen, the ambulance will be here soon. Try to stay calm." Misty offered soothingly, fists clenched on her knees. Ash was buckled over, watching closely when the girl whispered.

"They want to hurt me..."

 **XOX**

The ambulance arrived ten minutes after, and after a quick discussion with the driver, they carried the woman off in the ambulance. The girl had no identification on her, no semblance of a car, or any validation who she was. They would have to follow up with her after she woke in the hospital to contact her family— _if_ she woke up. Ash didn't know much about medicine, but she didn't look good.

"Drugs." Misty hummed, taking a seat on the bench outside of the bakery where Ash sat.

"You think so?"

"Only time I've ever seen people act like that." her voice was low and grim, and she seemed so done with the day—but he knew this was only the start of a long day of work for her. Only now, as he watched her flick through her phone, did he see the several missed phone calls, a million text messages; and he was grateful for the millionth time that his phone number had no yet been swamped with police information.

"Sorry... for flaking out in there."

"You did fine." She assured him, brushing her hands against her face. He watched her wash them several times in a row, earlier. As well as her face.

"No, you did fine—I was still registering what was happening when you were starting CPR." At this, she chuckled.

"I've had a bit more experience than you have."

"How much would you say exactly." He grinned and her eyes rolled.

"I'm twenty-four okay?" She glared at him sideways, then added. "Twenty-five in December. I graduated from Kanto University when I was twenty-one, and I've been on the force since then. I started as a desk jockey and was promoted to detective when I was twenty-two. My shoe-size is a seven, my least favorite things are carrots and bugs, and I have three annoying sisters." she rolled her eyes with a huff, clearly mocking him at this point.

"Do you need to know my childhood now, too?"  
"Hey, I just don't think it's fair that you looked all this stuff up about me, and I didn't know anything about you." He argued admirably, but she saw through him.

"Uh-huh." She leaned on the arm rest with a loud sigh, but found the situation humorous—least, her smile told him that.

"Are you two alright?" A woman's voice tore through the serene moment, as pale hands coated in a film of white flour approached the two of them with a tray in hand.

"We...uh, at the bakery wanted to give you two these for the help today." Her hair was long and blonde, and her bangs hung in front of her blue eyes—but Ash hardly noticed.

He was _starving_ now, and looked at the small, round mini-donuts with anticipation. Was that normal?

"Oh, well thanks." Misty answered, taking the wrapped platter from the young woman's hands.

"So you two are cops, huh? Do you come here very often?" And Ash couldn't help but think the question was directed to him the way her eyes glanced at him. However, how could he tell her that his heart belonged to another small-town business? He couldn't ditch Brock's place to come here.

"No, this was our first time."

" _Our_?" The girl asked, blinking several times with flushed cheeks. Misty's face soured.

"Oh, right." Misty grumbled, pointing to Ash who had taken the platter from her hands. "This is Ash, my partner. And I'm Misty—you are?"

A wash of relief crossed her face. "I'm Serena, it's nice to meet you both. That was really a scare earlier; next time it'll be on the house."

"Sweet, thanks!" Ash chimed and Misty snorted.

"You barely ate the food you had today."

"Well-" Ash started, but then Misty's phone rang several times. More than likely Officer Jenny, asking about the situation and where her only active detective was on a Saturday afternoon instead of finishing work at the station. Ash's eyes followed the redhead as she stumbled to her impala, and how her face messed up upon the retelling of the events, and he could see that she wanted to wash her hands _again_.

"So, you're new to the force, aren't you? I saw you in the paper."

"Oh, me? Yeah. I started Monday at the Kanto City Police Department."

"That's really cool." The blonde smiled.

"I guess."

"I think you're going to be a great cop."

Ash hesitated, looking sideways at her. "Uh...yeah, thanks." She fidgeted at his response, then offered a sly smile.

"You know-"

"Ketchum, I need to get going, get in the car!" Misty suddenly shouted at him, whatever sincerity was lost on her now that her glasses guarded her eyes, and she was sliding into the drivers seat. Ash left the platter when he rose.

"That's my cue—we'll talk later, Serena. It was nice meeting you!" And without further comment, they were gone.

 **XOX**

"So why didn't we caution off that part of the diner?" Ash asked her as she drove him home in a hurry.

"Because we have no evidence to believe a crime has been committed. She could have been having a seizure, or a stroke or something." Misty responded while turning off to the direction of his house. Somehow, he found leaving her at the station made him feel an overwhelming amount of guilt.

"But you said drugs might have been involved."

Misty snorted. "Technically, it's not illegal to have reactions to drugs."

"And you preformed CPR..."

"But she was whisked away in an ambulance, which means there's nothing at the bakery that needs to be fenced off. If we hadn't been there, it's possible this wouldn't have even been reported—just another accident."  
Ash wasn't satisfied with her response. "Okay, but what about paperwork, do you have to fill any of that out?"

"Not until I talk with the young woman at the hospital—if she wakes up. Like I said, there might not even _be_ a case."

Ash exhaled. "But she said that someone was..."

Misty's patience were clearly gone.

"Listen, if we filed out paperwork every time we reacted to a situation, we would run out of paperwork. With no evidence, I have no right to accuse or believe that she was involved in anything but a mental break down. I can't put her on file for that. The most I can do is visit her in the hospital, and see where it goes from there. You understand?"

"Yeah, sorry." Ash grumbled, folding his arms and slumping. He didn't like this one bit.

Misty smiled at that, but he wasn't sure why. "Yeah, welcome to the force. There's a lot of things we don't have answers for."

"...I guess." Ash settled back in his chair—then remained quiet as Misty drove the rest of the way back to his house.

When they stopped, and the car was thrown into park, Misty was surprised to see that he didn't spring out of the car instantly.

"Well, this is your stop. Try to have a good rest of your day off."  
"...yeah." said Ash glumly while reaching around the back of the seat to grab his bags. He glanced at Misty, still unsure of a hearty stare, and then kicked open the door.

"You're just going back to the station?" asked Ash.

She chortled. "It's where I live, after all." She joked, grinning a small, sly grin.

"Okay." Ash nodded, but then shut the door without a goodbye, and watched her drive off into the distance.

"Ash!" his mother screamed, once she knew the red head was out of shouting distance. Both she and Pikachu rushed to him as he watched the dirt settle.

"How was your date?"

"It wasn't a date, mom." Ash argued with much less venom than before.

 **XOX**

Misty was tired already. Toppled with the regurgitating feeling of blood and spit on her face, she had to stop home for a shower before continuing her search. Most of her Saturday paperwork was completed at home, and the other part was listening in on police scanners for any job she would need to be involved in.

A drowned body of a man in the river found with rocks in their pockets. Three hours to close the scene, grab forensics, and profile the killer.

 _TF_ carved on the wrist like the last one—but this time the scene was disguised as a suicide, not a trademark of the killer—and so it was one more incident to add to her ever growing list of names and issues. Unlike the last kill, this time, identification was left on the body which meant another family to break the news to.

She was at her wits end by the time six rolled around, and she slumped through the half-empty police department. Night was always friskier than morning, with drunks and questionable members of society taking up waiting space and lobby seats. She didn't bother to pass hellos with fellow department employees, as most of them were interested in getting their jobs done so they could go home.

"Waterflower, I have a case I want you to look at." said one blurry face, shoving a file in her hand. She handed it back.  
"Leave it on my desk."

"There was a group of kids at a party in Lavender. We've closed off what was supposed to be an 'accident' for you to check out." _Teenagers liked to party—most of the time accidents did happen. If only they learned from their mistakes._

"I'll see it on my way out."

"We have those files from that missing persons report—apparently they found him outside the local fishing docks. We have him in custody, he says he will identify the kidnapper." For once, good news, she smiled at the officer who brought her the news—Ritchie?-Maybe?

"Set up an appointment tomorrow morning, make sure he's well taken care of, until then."

Before she even finished the sentence, another approached her, holding a few boxes in her hands. "That family in protective custody wanted to send you a gift package."

"Did you remind them they were in protective custody?" And with that, Misty groaned.

And as the endless pile of work flew at her in all directions, she found herself spinning as she entered the detective unit, which was once upon a time full of several dozen amazing young men and women who worked in many different departments and filled over half the quota that was currently sitting on her shoulders. Hands pressed against the door, she let her head fall down for only a second before turning to sit at her desk, tunnel through the mountain of files she was sure to have there—when she jumped, shivering in her own skin at who was in the room with her.

Black hair, tucked under an unofficial Pallet Farm's Police baseball league hat.

"Thought you said you were coming right back here? Do you know how much they just throw onto your desk? I think the people we need to talk about confidentiality with are the rest of the police officers here! Someone actually just slide a file full of important missing person information _under_ the door, _under the door!_ " Ash threw his arms up, and Misty stood perfectly still, unsure of what she was seeing.

"And you had three phone-calls; one from the hospital, that girl—Bianca-is ready to talk with you, your sisters _really_ need to stop making personal phone calls, and Paul says he won't be in on Monday and to cover for him. He'll be in tomorrow instead."

Misty blinked once again, Ash had rattled this all off without looking up from whatever he was currently reading, until she noticed the two large coffee's on his desk, and her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. He gazed up at her with brown eyes.

"Why are you here?" she asked meekly.

"Well, you seemed swamped; and besides, what else did I have planned for tonight?"  
"Probably something dumb like watching cartoons and playing video games." Misty hummed, though he noticed that the edge in her tone was gone, an was replaced heavily with the surprised, gentle tone he could get used to.

"Well, cartoons, yes—but my gaming station has been broken since Pikachu decided he wanted to be a rat one day and climb through all of my wires and electronics." Misty snorted.

"You named your pet _Pikachu_? From that Pokemon game?"

"Hey-" Ash's face screwed up, slightly surprised that she knew what that was, and a little insulted. "I've had him since I was ten; and I loved that game."

Her face scrunched up as she moved towards her desk. "Me, too." Ash didn't try to hide the aghast expression on his face.

"What kind of animal?" She followed with immediately before he could hammer her with questions.

"A golden retriever. We considered buying a rat, but my mom doesn't like them."

"Ahh." Misty stopped. "I have two cats— _had_ , they're at my parents house."

"Nice."

And then when Misty sat down, she found herself staring over at him curiously; whereas he had taken to reading over another case file.

"...I'm sorry—why are you here again?" Total disbelief echoed in her voice, and Ash would be damned before admitting he thought it might have been cute—because it clearly wasn't.

"Don't make me say it." Ash sighed, staring into her green eyes earnestly. "I mean, I still don't like you very much, and I gotta say being nice to you is a lot more work than it's cracked up to be—but we're partners; so...I'm helping out."

"It's your first week."

"Yeh, but how am I gonna pay you back for tormenting me so much if I'm not around?"

Then, she grinned.

Perhaps it wasn't too late for the start of a very peculiar friendship, after all.

 **Author's Note** :

YEAH, I MADE A JELLY FILLED DONUT JOKE. -shot-

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Mrs. Nose, who will know right away why it's dedicated to her. _You're welcome_. XD

Also, I totally fricked up second chapter. I will fix it later ;w;. I had the outline written out where I was writing something about the characters and realized that in chapter two I wrote "Casey" as the missing person and it was supposed to be Duplica. Oh man, thanks Legal-eagle for asking about that. I just now realized what you meant.

If there are any words missing the letter 'a' it's because my button only works half the time, and sometimes it's hard to catch D:

And now the real adventure begins~ :D


	5. Chapter 5: A day off

**So You Want to be a Cop, Chapter 5**

"There was a cop at the scene."

"You don't think I know that?" hissed a man dressed all in black, his hair was tied back into the fabrics of the hood, his face pale and hidden by the shadows of the flickering light in the dark room.

"It's a problem." said the taller one. "We need to get rid of the evidence before she tells them."

"Fine. I-I'll take care of the girl tonight."

 **XOX**

A simple trip to the park, that's how Ash would remember this moment. Stepping out of his beat up truck, dirtied by the muddy trails leaving the Pallet Farms district, and holding onto the golden retriever who sat beside him, wagging his tail and poking his head outside of the window. Pikachu loved to go out for their Sunday walks; Ash only wished he wasn't so damn exhausted from the night before.

He stayed at the department until midnight, helping Misty with paperwork and she barely uttered two words to him before leaving. Sure, that shouldn't have bothered him, a not-talking Misty was better than a yelling or sarcastic Misty, and yet it unnerved him. Maybe she was just as tired as he was when they left the department, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had gone out of his way to help her, and she still didn't trust him. Not that one night was going to change their love-to-hate relationship; but he had hoped it would have melted a little bit of the ice.

Ash had never been one to grow a beard, but pulling himself out of bed at 7:00am for his walk with Pikachu was a lot harder after the forty minute commute home, and then the three hours of tossing and turning it took to get the image of that sick girl in the bakery out of his head. She was so indisposed, and he did nothing to help her. Was it drugs? Or a virus? Or poison?

Oh man, when he thought of poison, he didn't even touch the sweet rolls that Serena made for him—in fact, he didn't eat at all yesterday, and skipped breakfast this morning. Damn, was he regretting it now that his stomach felt like a tunnel into the black abyss.

Beside him, Pikachu barked once or twice, letting him know that he found something that he liked, and his nose started sniffing the air for the familiar scents of May and Brock; Pikachu was good at finding other people, and items, and weird things buried on the street, for whatever reason. Delia called Pikachu the _perfect service dog_ , and Ash hadn't even tried to train him that way. Pikachu was smart—the perfect companion.

Now that the dog was bordering eleven, and started forming gray around his toes and snout, he wondered how long it would be until Pikachu checked out permanently. To be sure it would never happen, Ash never missed routine walks, never fed him garbage, kept up with his bi-monthly trips to the vet. Ash loved his dog, just about as much as he was sure Pikachu loved him. They were one in the same; his best friend. When Ash hit low points, he always had Pikachu at his side, through the best and hardest parts of his life. Now, Pikachu could tell Ash wasn't feeling the greatest, so he compensated by wagging his tail more, and barking gleefully in attempt to keep Ash's mind occupied.

Didn't work, he was dead off his feet in exhaustion.

Pikachu barked again, pulling the sleep deprived Ash from his thoughts as the golden retriever bounced into the shrubbery beside the park, and emerged with a stick in preparation for the car coming down the hill—his best friends May and Brock always car pooled. They lived in the same area—and by that-May was a freshman free-loader who moved into the city suburb of Viridian Forest and was currently Brock's no-rent-paying roommate. She was between jobs as a news caster and some type of zoo handler.

He wasn't sure, really, May was always the free spirited one, determined to see the rest of the world; but then she graduated from high school, and as she would say in her own words _"It was all down hill from there!_ " while throwing her arms about. At one point, she and Ash had joked about traveling the world together, becoming the world's greatest tour guides; but the idea was silly, Ash was more interested in serving and protecting those that couldn't protect themselves.

However, when he thought about that girl from the bakery, and his stomach churned and bile rose to the back of his throat, Ash wasn't too sure that becoming a police officer was the way to go. Not that he would ever _admit that_.

Brock was the determined medical student; since he and Ash were little, he wanted to be a veterinarian, and those plans never changed. At one point, he and Ash both joked about it—but Ash always knew that _he_ wasn't smart enough. Brock was already in his third year of school, working full time at The Pewter Gem, and taking night classes. Ash, while he was determined and stubborn in his own right, could never fathom the discipline it required to attend school at the level it required to become some kind of doctor.

And here Ash was, finally the detective he always dreamed of being, and feeling about as excited for it as a spider being introduced to its first rainfall. Misty hadn't been wrong; Ash thought the job _would_ be more about the adventure, the thrill of the ride, like those cop movies he watched _everyday_ growing up. But now, he felt kind of silly for thinking it would be about car chases and infiltration.

A part of him knew it was silly to hope, because _he knew_ what it really was like to be a cop—his father was the glowing image of that—but he always _hoped_ that there would be more to it than what he learned in the academy.

He was Ash Ketchum, soon-to-be the world's greatest detective, he hoped that it would be different.

Pikachu returned gleefully, prancing along side a woman wearing skin-tight black shorts, white biker shorts, and a red hoodie, and a tall, _brooding_ , man in a green sweater and brown pants. At the sight of his two companions, he realized he had zoned out and shook his head clear of unnecessary thoughts.

"Listen, _May_ , I'm just saying, maybe getting a job wouldn't be a bad thing, I mean, you've been with me for four weeks now—you said you would only be here for a few days."

" _I_ know." May snapped, her shoulders rolling. "But why's it matter, anyways? You're hardly home."

"See, that's the thing—since I'm hardly home, I expect to come home to a clean house after being gone for several hours—not a _zoo_!"

"It's not a zoo, it's _training_." At the familiar sound of their bickering, the chip fell of Ash's shoulder, and he greeted them with a smile, and pat Pikachu on the head.

"May up to no good again?"  
"She brought out six stray birds yesterday, none of which have been checked for anything!"

"I was saving them from a fox!"

"You-" Ash stepped in, patting a vein-bulging Brock on the shoulder.

"Alright, calm down, buddy. Let's think of this rationally." he inhaled and grabbed May's hand. "I'll hold her here, you run back to your apartment and release the birds."

"No!" May gasped, lunging for Brock who sprinted back up the hill as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Ash held his gut, laughing.

"May, you have to stop bringing in stray animals—you don't even _like_ most of them."

"But, but, they were so _cute_ ," Before she continued, Ash stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and offered a sympathetic stare and head tilt.

"That job as a food tester didn't go so well, huh?"

"No, they fired me after the first day. Don't tell Brock." May rolled her eyes, but then winced. "Something about eating too much of the samples and not offering a good enough opinion—it's not _my_ fault if everything tastes good. People are too picky, honestly."

"uh-huh." Ash nodded, though he hadn't stopped grinning since they arrived. Since Brock would be at least twenty minutes—ten minutes there, ten minutes back—Ash walked to the opening ice cream stand, in desperate need of anything of subsistence. He didn't really want to talk about food.

"Anyway, what about you? Where were you yesterday? I showed up for our weekly game night and you weren't there. Brock thought you died."

Ash stifled a laugh. May was always one for dramatic flare.

"Well...I was at the police station, actually."

May's face scrunched up, first disgusted at the idea Ash was working over time and probably not getting paid for it, then a wash of admiration for his dedication to the job, and then a sly smirk that pulled from one corner of her mouth to the next. It made Ash _very_ uncomfortable.

"I see." She said cunningly, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Ash made no eye contact after that, and devoted his time to following Pikachu as they moved to the cart.

"And was there... say, I don't know... a certain _red head_ there, too?"

"No." Ash said too quickly and knew he gave it away. They always did this to him, first with that girl in high school, and now this. "May, please don't do this."

"Oh, yeah? Do what?" Her eyebrows danced, and he, Ash Ketchum, prayed for Brock to return. "Huh, huh? You gonna tell me or what?" She elbowed him, and found himself torn between feeling disgusted with himself because he couldn't laugh off her innuendos, and because he was a little insulted that maybe something _didn't_ happen.

"Nothing happened. I sat for eight and a half hours scribbling notes down on a paper, transferring information from file cabinets and closing cold cases." He tried to shrug her off, but she was stuck to his shoulder like glue.

"That's it, huuuuuh?"

"Damn it, May." Ash cursed, unintentionally snapping at her and storming off. May reeled back.

"Jeeze, I was just joking, don't need to get so defensive."

"Sorry." Ash replied immediately, tugging on his red ball cap and then rubbing his face. He didn't shave at all, he had trouble growing facial hair, but even he could feel the five o'clock shadow on his face. "It was just a long day, okay?"

"I can see that, sorry."

And that should have been the end of the discussion. She dropped it, that was what Ash wanted, after all; but then...

"You know, I went there without her asking me to because she seemed _so swamped_ , and she hardly said three words to me after being completely stunned that I showed up at all. Then, when we left—mind you—it was _midnight_ before we finished putting together the documentation for the Aqua case and she didn't even say goodbye. She just looked at me like I grew another head, waved her car keys at me and drove off!" he was panting by the time they reached the ice-cream cart and the owner was looking at him oddly.

"Two shorbets on waffle cones, _please_." Ash paused his rant to place his order, then spun around to look at May once again.

"And oh _man_ don't get me started on the condescending attitude about my attire—does she never wear jeans? Are jeans suddenly out now. Last I checked they were still hip!"

"Allllright." May finally started, waving her hand to stop the ice-cream tender from making the two treats and then grabbed Ash by the shoulders to lead him away from making a scene. The few other people gathered at the park were already watching him as if he really _did_ grow three heads. This park wasn't loud, ever. His yelling was drawing too much attention.

"Okay, lets take a deep breath and try that over."

Only by now, Ash was squeezing his temple and rubbing his face. Pikachu whimpered at his feet, then rested his head on top of his shoe when they sat on the park bench.

"Sorry, May, it's not even that, that's really bothering me."

"Then what is it?" asked May in that motherly voice she very rarely had; usually the only time he heard it was when Max was around, and usually in trouble.

"I can't say?"

"Oh, c'mon, Ash. We've been friends since high school, you can tell." Even though her words were true, and Ash cracked a smile, he shook his head.

"No, I can't actually. I think its classified until we know more."

 _"Oh._ It's work." May's disposition changed, she was suddenly sitting straighter, her shoulders broad and a strange look of apprehension and admiration. "I see."

"Yeah, I just saw something and...didn't react the way I thought that I would, you know?"  
"We all get like that sometimes. Will ice cream help?"  
"You sent back my ice cream." Ash mumbled, glaring at her. May offered him a grin.

"Well, now I won't. My treat. Cookies and cream? What about for my little Pikachu?"

Ash's expression soured. "He can't _have_ ice cream, May."

"I know, I know. But I'm still gonna ask." And with a pat to Pikachu's head, she was off to talk with the nice man who's Sunday business was probably reliant on their arrival to the park. What little money May scraped together was typically spent on food, and when she exercised, she ate _a lot_. Now that he really saw her, he realized that she looked tired herself, probably from looking after those birds all night, but also because he knew that behind that naive disposition, she was worried about her future. Life didn't always plan out the way one expected, but by comparison, she was the only one falling behind.

This was new, observing people—observing his friends. Ash was usually the kind of person to take everyone at their face value, to determine their strengths as he got to know them—not to make a judgment based on a few incidents, but since Misty implied he needed to _act more like a detective_ , he couldn't turn his brain off. Suddenly, he was analyzing everyone, wondering what their motives were; why they did the things that they did. For example, why an ice-cream cart man would be here every Sunday to serve them. His hair was dyed a pristine color of purple, and he spent a gregarious amount of time deciding on which variation of green to wear, and looking at him now, he seemed to _really_ like looking at May.

Ash's head tilted at a ninety degree angle, wondering how he missed this for so long, he barely missed Brock jumping over the back of the bench, and shoving some kind of cinnamon stick into his mouth and chewing loudly.

"Oh, don't tell me Harley's flirting with May again?"

"Hmm?" Ash blinked, then snapped his attention to Brock. "Oh, sorry, man, what'd you say?"

"You okay?" Brock ask, instantly seeing everything that May noticed on his face, but this time, with a hint of humor.

"Harley is hitting on May." Ash deduced and Brock nodded very slowly.

"It appears so..." He crossed his arms. "Should we throw him into the pond?"

And with that, Ash started laughing loudly, grateful that it was always his friends that reminded him that he was still a _normal_ person under neath all of this new responsibility.

 **XOX**

"...So, let me get this straight..." Brock's voice carried in the park as he followed Ash around, holding the second ice cream of the day. They were just returning from the hiking trail that took them through the majestic waters of Celadon Park when Ash scowled. Pikachu tromped beside them outside of his leash, ducking back and forth to experience new smells. May walked on Ash's other side, too concerned with her ice cream to hear the two men.

"You spent the whole night with her at the police station. _Alone_ , and _nothing_ happened?"

Brock could hear and practically _see_ the distress and frustration over Ash's face, but that didn't mean he would let up at all, and Ash knew this about his best friend. Brock was nothing if not relentless. They had been over this a million times, now.

"Nothing happened. Not that it would, and I'm disturbed you would even suggest such a thing. We had a lot of catching up to do with files, you know, dry, _boring_ , paperwork." As if the truth wasn't a good enough explanation, Ash quickly added: "Besides, what could possibly happen?"

Brock rolled his eyes at Ash's naivety. He knew that his friend was oblivious, but not stupid. After all, Ash was a detective now—he would hope that he was familiar with some form of innuendo at this point.

"Ash," May called to him, "Just tell Brock if you two had coitus, so he'll move on to something else. We've been over this a million times, I'm hungry, and the sooner we move on from this topic, the sooner we can talk about the hockey game on Thursday." said a frustrated May while taking a seat at the bench that they always sat on. At this comment, Ash's cheeks turned bright pink and he stopped instantly to yell at the two of them.

"What is wrong with you two!?"  
"Well, you've talked about her enough." May grumbled, and Ash started to speak, stumbled over his words and then threw up his arms.

"That's hardly the point! It's Misty! I mean, _yeah_ , she's not breathing fire anymore but she's still a demon! There's no way that could happen, she's still a nightmare to be around—let's not forget the rudeness!" he staggered. "B-besides, I talk about Gary, a lot; I don't like _him_!"

"That's different." Brock and May said automatically. Brock's eyebrow wagged.

"C'mon, she flashed you her keys. She was clearly implying that you follow her." Brock nodded and Ash slapped his forehead.

"That is not what she implied, Brock. I mean, what is with you today? You know how I feel about this kind of stuff!" Ash huffed, crossing his arms while feeling exposed and slightly betrayed.

"Yeah, but you're a little old to still be squeamish about cooties." Brock chuckled alongside May who shook her head.

Pensive, Ash rubbed his temple. "I'm not—it's not... ugh." Ash whined, flopping onto the seat beside Brock who pat Ash on the head, having finally worn the smaller man out. Brock was easily half a foot taller than Ash.

"Whoa." Brock stopped Ash's rampage to peer past him at the hip, to a female jogging in the distance. "How often do you think she runs to keep a figure like that?"

May looked up from her ice cream to stare,

"I'd argue three times a day—maybe a swimmer. She does have nice legs though... I wouldn't get your hopes up. " She never joined in with Brock's ogling, but she liked to tell Brock his chances of success, and based on the arch in her brows; Brock's chances were in the negatives. So, the usual.

Brock, however, didn't notice—he always had a thing about pretty women. Ash rubbed his face, and sighed. It was childish, and Ash had always hoped Brock would grow out of it—but someone so smart and _angelic_ had to have one flaw, right?

"I'd say she's easy a nine and my chances are wonderful. Red heads are a—" Alarms sounded in Ash's head and his eyes snapped up to see the woman running and his jaw dropped— _oh god, it was her._  
"Brock for the love of-" Ash started, but the man continued even as she circled around the edge of the park, completely unaware of his comments. Ash covered his face in embarrassment.

"I bet she could _really_ give me a run for my money." He muttered in a pun and May let out a very unorthodox sigh and shook her head with a chuckle; all the while, Ash was scrambling for the words to prevent this oh-so-wrong moment from unfolding.

Ash slapped Brock's face by accident, reaching for his mouth to shut it.

"Brock!" Ash screamed. "That's _her_!"

"Oh sweet mother of apple sauce, my _eyes."_ Brock squinted even more than he could possibly ever imagine, and covered them with his hands.

"That would be granny smith apples, and I concur." and in unison, they both leaned over the side of their armrests and slunk in their seats. Their rule was there was no hitting on anyone the other was interested in. It was why Drew was off limits—not that Brock and Ash would ever... But that wasn't the point! This was insane! And _—damn_ it, she did look good in those tights.

Startled by his own thoughts, Ash flung himself forward, waking Pikachu at their feet as he said: "Don't make eye contact, we'll flee when she crosses the bridge."  
"Now who is being immature?" Brock chuckled, their silliness halted.

"I am _not_!" but he couldn't very well face her after that display, Ash needed time to recoup, get his thoughts in line, and have a long shower.

While they were distracted, bickering about how they would escape and Brock arguing that there wasn't a point—Ash should be able to talk to his partner without fear, Pikachu had been sitting, watching his owner and friends while wagging his tail happily side to side. When an unsuspecting Misty came around the bend closest to them, off in her own world at central park; they hardly noticed the dog jolt forward.

"Wait! Pikachu!" Ash hissed a moment too late, trying to grab for the leash he released hours ago.

The inevitable greeting was underway the very second Pikachu knocked a full sprinting woman flat into the grass near the side of the pond, Ash knew he would never hear the end of this.

"Oh man, are we going to get charged for that?" May asked, ducking behind the bench in fear. "I mean, I'm still in college, I can't have that on my record."

"You're not in-" Brock growled, then threw his hand up. "Never mind."

As a group, they approached.

"She's not—I mean." Ash swore, cursing every moon under the sun, watching the scene unfold.

Dog and woman laid very still for a few beats, then after a shuffling, Misty didn't fight Pikachu off of her, and the dog took the inaction as initiation of slobbery, wet dog kisses.

"Pikachu-!" Ash hissed one last time, and the dog reluctantly peeled itself off the red head, who sat up on her elbows and looked to see Ash approaching; wearing civilian clothes—simple jeans and a black tee-shirt. Ash didn't hesitate to speak.

"Sorry. Pikachu tends to—just—never mind. I'm sorry." As he approached her, trying to watch for any marks, or blood or anything she could hold against him, he stuck out his hand to help her up.

Not surprisingly, she didn't take it.

"Your dog?" She asked, adjusting her tank-top to fit more appropriately. He never saw her dressed down before, in running gear and tight pants and shirt. It was weird. He blinked up at her.

"Yeah, this is Pikachu." He pat the dog's head, who spun at the mention of his name and then brushed his head against Misty's knees.

"He usually-"Ash tugged back on his collar to keep the dog away from Misty, but she squat down to rub the dog's neck and ears, smiling brightly.

"...doesn't like new people." Ash breathed when the dog rolled over to have his belly scratched by Misty; who by this point had degraded into doggy ramblings.

"You're such a pretty dog! Yes you are." She grinned as May and Brock winced to Ash's side, worried that they would see the full force of her anger until they watched her rubbing Pikachu's belly so innocently.

"So scary." Brock whispered mockingly, earning an elbow jab from Ash, who forced a smile at Misty who awkwardly stood back up. She didn't mention the fact she was just _attacked_ by the animal, but he was sure she had some way to use it against him, eventually.

"Man, it took me three weeks before Pikachu warmed up to me like that. He must have a thing for red heads like his-" May started, but was stopped by a second elbowing, this time to May's stomach. They both laughed awkwardly while Ash crossed his arms and tried to look serious.

"So...what brings you here?"

Misty looked around, then down at her attire. "Running?" She was sweating when she flicking her bangs out of her face and looked to both Brock and May. Misty wiped her face with an arm band around her upper arm.

"Oh." Ash hummed.

 _Awkward_. "Don't you work today?"

"No, remember? You took the call. Paul's in today." Cutting to the chase, she looked to his companions. "These are your friends?" She asked, interjecting them into the conversation. Brock grinned, and threw himself forward to grab Misty's hand. May followed.

"We've heard so much!" She squealed, a mischievous glimmer in her eye. "Are you really the devil in disguise?"

Misty blinked twice, then smirked. She didn't need to deliver the glare to Ash for a shiver to run up his spine.

"Yeah, actually. Though usually it's just the people I put in jail who call me that."

"You've really put people in jail, huh?" Brock grinned rubbing his chin.

"That's so cool. How's it feel to be the only female detective on staff? It must be hard surrounded by so many men when you're so pretty." Now that made her blush, and awkwardly remove herself from May's grasp, and even take a few steps away.

"Well, no. Our police chief is a woman, so...uh, it's not too strange."

Ash's eyebrows quirked. Did she just flinch?

"You're so modest-" She shoved Brock's face out of the way. "Tell me, how do you stay in shape? I mean-"

Ash had enough and threw his arms between them. "The annoying one is May." He growled, then pointed to Brock. "And this is Brock."

"Ah-ha." Misty grinned, a light bulb clicking on in her head. "The baker."

"The baker." Ash confirmed.

"Thought you said they spit in the food at that restaurant? You're friends with him?" She knew these words would get him in trouble; her jab for the devil comment. He couldn't even be mad.

Ash sighed, but could feel Brock stiffen beside him.

"You said what? After all those times I fed you, clothed, you and raised you! You would tell people I spit in my food?"

"Raised me?" Ash gasped, leaning back and suddenly finding himself on the same side as Misty, facing his friends who both looked appalled.

"It's alright." Misty interjected. "I was just kidding."

"Why would you joke about that?" Brock whined, appearing physically hurt by her words. Misty shrugged.

"He called me a devil, had to see him shake a little bit." There it was, the smirk that Ash knew all too well, and would become a familiar presence between the four of them if Brock and May had anything to say about it. However, behind that smirk was also a white lie... in his favor.

 _So maybe more had changed than he thought._

"Hey, actually, I think I've seen you at the cafe before—once or a twice. Usually you're with another guy." said May, snapping her fingers.

"Yeah, my old partner and I used to go there a lot. Sometimes I drag Paul with me...but he tends to scare people, so..."

At the mention of _old partner_ , both Brock and Ash shared a withered look, though May remained unfazed.

"Your hair used to be shorter."

Naturally, Misty brushed her hair over her ponytail. "You remember how long my hair was?"

"You'd be surprised what I can remember." May grinned happily, a little weird, but Misty didn't mind.

"That was over a year ago."

"Redheads aren't common."

"There are people in this city with green hair, and you're saying my hair stuck out the most?"

May's face fell at the green hair comment, and suddenly her fingers were painfully more intriguing than Misty, so the detective turned to Ash and Brock for an explanation. None came, they were too busy looking at their shoes and shuffling. At this point, only Pikachu looked excited to see her.

"Well, I guess it was nice meeting you two, but I really should get going."

"Wait," Brock chirped. "Why don't you come to lunch with us? It'll be on the house, I'm the manager of The Pewter Gem, so it's no problem."  
Misty might have taken him up that offer is Ash didn't look so completely petrified, especially when May jumped on board with the idea. Lucky for him, Misty was nothing if not merciful—wait, _what_?

"Actually, I have some business to attend to. I have to get some files ready for work tomorrow and pick up the extra that Paul is leaving behind so...thanks, but maybe next time."

Brock and May started their traditional "next time for sure, let's make a date out of it, why don't you and Ash stop in after work sometime" proposals, so in the mean time she tilted her head at Ash and he breathed a sigh of relief, and...guilt?

"We'll see. Thanks for the invite though." Misty smiled to them, and held up her hands. "But I need to get going, really." she looked at Ash.

"But if you're interested, I'm going to meet with that girl at the hospital tonight around six—I know it's your day off but-"

"I'll be there." Ash responded instantly, the silence that followed crippling. Then she smiled and nodded.

"Good, bring a note book and pen. To you, May and Brock; I'll see you around."  
"Stop in at the cafe anytime! Coffee's on me!"

Misty giggled. She _giggled_ , "Alright."

Then she was leaving and Ash felt like he had a hole in his chest, a combination of guilt and frustration. He was _supposed_ to be happy that she was leaving and instead he felt like the biggest jerk for making a big deal out of a lunch. He was always complaining she wasn't fair with him, and here he was blowing the best opportunity he has had to be _fair_ , and instead he cowered behind his friends and..

"I totally get it now. She is totally a firecracker." Brock inhaled, crossing his arm.

The frustration was gone, replaced instead with embarrassment. He was glad that she left, if only to save her from Brock and May's antics.

"Did you see the way Ash looked at her? He looks like that time when-" Ash's cheeks flushed.

"I hope you guys know that I'm carrying a fully loaded pistol on me." He wasn't, but they didn't need to know that.

 **XOX**

Ash didn't like the shorter days, when the sun started to set around six o'clock. He enjoyed the long summer days and short summer nights. He also enjoyed sitting at home _enjoying_ his mother's freshly cooked meal and not carrying a paper sack with left overs to give to Misty, just in case she skipped dinner. What was it with his friends? They were all so darn nice. Ash grinned happily that time, their niceness was something he really loved about them all.

As he approached the main entrance of the hospital, he expected to be lost on his way to see this girl, so he was taken aback when he saw Misty standing outside the main doors, holding a coffee in her hands and looking up at the _Kanto City_ hospital sign like it insulted her. She looked stiff, and different. Nothing like he remembered when he saw her that afternoon. However, he felt silly now, carrying around a sack of food when he approached her at the top of the steps.

"Hey." he said.

Her head turned quickly, as if she didn't expect to see him so soon. It was still a quarter to five, and Ash knew now that her punctuality exceeded far more than her work routine.

"Hey, you made it."

"Said I would be here, didn't I?"

"I suppose so." And then she nodded and led him inside.

"You brought dinner with you?" She asked, eyeing the package in his hand. Of course she wouldn't let that go.

"Ah, no." he stammered. "My mom insisted I bring you something. You know, just in case you skipped dinner."

Misty was grinning ear to ear when he felt brave enough to look up from the floor. He hated feeling embarrassed. It was just a kind gesture, nothing was meant by it.

"That's sweet of her, but I did eat."  
"So can I throw it away?"

He was surprised to see her snatch it so quickly.

" _but_ , you never turn your nose up at home cooked meals." She said then stuffed the paper bag into her purse that she had neatly concealed under her arm, and only then did Ash realize that _she_ was dressed casually. A pair of dark blue jeans and a yellow sweater. He immediately scowled, because for once, _he_ was the one wearing slacks, and the blue shirt that she picked out, and the suit jacket and those stupid shoes. He had no idea dressing casually was an option!

"I thought we had a dress code?"

"We do." the familiar smirk crawled over her lips, and Ash knew she suspected this conversation would come up. "But I don't want to scare Miss Bianca, she doesn't need to think we're all business. She'll think I just rushed over here to check on her, a good, civilian thing to do."

"I don't know if I should call you out on your hypocrisy or your manipulative approach." Ash forced himself to smile at her vindictive traits and Misty wrinkled her nose at him.

"Just go with it."

Misty already knew where she was going, she cleared the information with the nurse hours before they arrived, and pressed that Bianca should not know they were police officers. She would arrive at six, after dinner was served, and surprise Bianca as her _savior_. A typical approach to people they feared were knee-deep in a drug abuse situation, that would allot a level of trust that the victim otherwise wouldn't have with a standard police officer. Only when Misty had made the young woman comfortable would she ask if it was okay for Ash to come in and ask some questions, but she wouldn't have to answer anything that made her uncomfortable—and of course, Misty would be there, at her side, to help her through it.

Apparently Misty's ability to understand the psychology behind people's reactions was the reason she was so trusted on the force. When she had to lay down her charm, she laid it down thick. Ash found the whole thing a little twisted. The only thing worse than being mothered was being falsely-mothered, but he respected her wishes. Her ability to relate to the victims lead to many successful cases. Or so he had heard.

Not that he was checking up on her file in his spare time, or anything.

However, this was Ash's first time asking questions, and while Misty tried to give him hints and tips, telling him to use the sample questions he learned in the academy, he was still shaking. Didn't she read that he almost failed the written portion of the academy?

"Okay, so you'll go in first?"  
"Yes, and remember, don't be nervous." She gave him a look that made his cheeks red, remembering everything Brock any May had put him through. She added: "You'll do fine."

"Right." Ash offered her a weak smile, and she made a face that seemed like she wasn't too confident in his abilities, but clapped him on the shoulder anyways. Then, she stepped into the room and was gone. Ash couldn't hear her talking right away, just the clack of her shoes, and the sound of his heartbeat racing in his ears.

When Misty came out a moment later, she looked at Ash with narrowed eyes.

"She's gone."

 **Author's note** :

In my mind, Misty, without ever meeting Ash, would still have a chip on her shoulder, growing up with her sisters, she would remain a tomboy and kind of mean? She's stubborn and hot-headed. That doesn't mean that she -isn't- the kind, motherly, accepting, responsible and level-headed girl that she is in the show; but like it took her awhile to warm up in the show; it takes her awhile to warm up here.

Meanwhile, Ash without his journey and adventures would still be a kind soul and a 'hero' but he wouldn't be well rounded. In the start of his journey, Ash was inherently selfish, and a bit of a kid that liked to point the finger at other people; to put it simple, he was kind of a jerk. (As was Misty, but Ash was a much more 'school-kid' jerk, whereas Misty was more of a 'school-yard bully') So change the fact of 'pokemon master' to 'greatest detective in the world' and we have a case of simply switching the deck.

THEREFORE, dropping them both into a position to be 'police officers' requires a lot of work, because I need to give them at least some motive that matches the anime. In Ash's case, he's always been the type of guy who would stop anything to help other people (and pokemon). He can be stubborn at times, and occasionally downright selfish; but in the end, he is a 16 movie-world hero, at least a dozen times an anime-hero; and I think some part of canon-Ash is very inspired to help people. (I just nudged the rest of that into the direction of a cop AU and I hope my reasoning all balance themselves out at some point) However, just because he wants to help people doesn't equal being an amazing cop, the same way loving pokemon didn't make him an amazing trainer.

So in my head; it turned into a little something like this; actual dedicated battlers (Paul, Misty, Gary, and Ash) equals cops in this AU.

I hope no one seems too OOC. It's hard to not -only- age them up, but to age them up in an AU. I have to remove aspects that are sponsored by the pokemon world and replace it with necessary 'fill in' back ground information that will eventually bud into a 'same life' scenario; and thus the reason I kept 'pokemon the game' in the AU universe. It keeps at least -some- air of familiarity.

I've thought way too much about this.

Hope to see you all next chapter! (Thanks for all the reviews, favs and follows, they really make my day!)

NINT


	6. Chapter 6: Back in the game

**So You Want to be a Cop, Chapter 6**

Ash couldn't have heard Misty right. In fact, he shook his head in disbelief and scoffed.

"...What do you mean she's gone?"

"She's not in her bed." Misty went for the nurses station immediately while Ash spun around to see for himself. A plump nurse tending to work sheets peered over at Misty only after the redhead slammed her fist on the counter. The woman jumped from concern, as Misty elaborated,

"Where is Bianca Reed?" Misty hissed, her eyebrows narrowing.

"Room 405, just down the hall from here..." The nurse said, clearly not intimidated by Misty's rage. The nurse was familiar with this kind of outburst from family members, a mad detective was the least of her concerns. Ash approached second.

"Yeah, we were just in there and she's, well, not." he said with a shrug of his shoulder to exemplify his confusion while also grabbing Misty's shoulder to bring her back from her temper tantrum. The first human contact they really had, and Misty shrugged him off with a huff.

"Do you know if she stepped out?" and the nurse popped out of her seat.

"She shouldn't have. We just saw her a few minutes ago. She's not strong enough to be walking around on her own." The nurse whined in concerned panic as she then jogged around the station and into the bedroom. She checked the bed, the second half of the room, and the washroom exactly as Misty had previously.

Realizing that Ms. Reed was in fact gone, the nurse looked worriedly at Ash who had followed, while Misty waited at the station with crossed arms.

"I...I need to call security, excuse me." the nurse muttered, dusting her hands off on her apron and rushing back to the station.

"Well, what do we do now?" Ash asked while stuffing his hands into his suit pockets while Misty clearly didn't like what she was seeing. She peered around the hospital room. Now, she wasn't familiar with the majority of medical procedure. She knew her way around an emergency room, and could help if absolutely necessary, but she knew that something was wrong. The IV cord dangled without the needle—it had been snipped, not removed. Her bed was a ruined mess of sheets and blankets, the food she had beside her was eaten; but more than that, the curtain that divided the room was torn, and the window was open.

"Does this look wrong to you?"

"Well, she's not here so...yes?"

Misty huffed and glared at him wondering once more how an incompetent police officer rose to the ranks of detective.

"No, I mean the room. The dividing curtain is torn, and why would someone who ate a full meal, with the television turned on Journey Stories suddenly decide to bail out of a hospital room where she was being catered to?"

"...Druggies do weird things. Maybe she got spooked?" Ash tried to remain passive, while cursing himself for standing around, watching Misty do the investigating. She was the senior cop, however, and he didn't want to get in the way.

Misty rushed to the window to look outside, her hair falling out of its neat and tidy bun and into her face. Behind the hospital was one of Kanto City's more renown forests, the Viridian Forest, home of hikers and campers, and part of an all inclusive therapy program. A small park was under construction below the high window, currently being swamped with construction equipment, and a shoddy fence boarding the forest. Viridian, and its hospital were famous for not only their quality care, but the stream that ran only a few yards away.

Back when the building was originally built, it was so the water-mill could create electricity for the hospital, now, it was being worked into the hospital's structure for a historical and progressive movement. The breeze had grown colder as the sun set, and Ash flinched as he approached Misty, who had grown quiet in her stare.

Out in the distance, he saw over her shoulder, was a small speck of white, huddled near the forest stream; and either Misty was contemplating shouting, or swearing at herself and the hospital.

Before her name left his lips, she reeled away, nearly crashing into Ash.

"I want security footage _now_!" She screamed to no one in particular, but loud enough for most of the floor to hear, and then stormed from the room, heading right for the elevator. Ash was hot on her heels, seeing the security personnel begin mashing buttons on their phones while Ash tried to rationalize what was happening. Rather aloof, he asked:

"You gonna tell me what's going on?"

No sarcastic remark, no eye roll or witty cynicism. Instead, she removed the lock on her shoulder holster as they entered the elevator and tried to contain whatever emotion was currently in control. From the knit in her brows, Ash guessed anger.  
"I think she was taken from that room." Misty pressed the down button what felt like a million times until the elevator moved. Ash winced.

"From the fourth floor?"  
"There was a ladder outside her window."

"You _really_ think someone could carry a fully grown woman outside of a window, in the middle of daylight, and have _no one_ see them?"

"I don't know, all I know is that the hospital's North wing faces the forest, and any noise could have easily been related to the construction."

Ash checked his watch: "They've been off for a couple hours now."

Then she glared at him, hard and cold; asking if he was challenging her thoughts, blowing holes in her theory. He wasn't; he was just finding a hard place to imagine anything happening to the girl—especially because no one was aware the police were even coming here. What other reason would they have to _drag her out of her window?_

Ash didn't ask any more questions as the elevator beeped on the main floor, and Misty flew out, holding her gun as she shoved staff out of her way and made her way to the back door. Ash apologized as he followed, trying to wrap his head around the situation. When they hit the back steps, the sun already fell behind the horizon.

They didn't travel far, running first to the spot beneath her window—once there, they could see the indent of two sets of foot prints in the sand, and some blood.

"Looks like they fell."

"Or _she_ fell." Misty deduced, _accidentally_ came to mind, but he didn't press the issue. Misty followed the jagged steps stitched through the worn earth, around a few large structural equipment. Naturally, if there was a struggle, she would have screamed, alerted people that she was being taken, but they couldn't have escaped much earlier than Ash and Misty arrived. If she fell from four feet, she would have been more than a few broken limbs—not able to run freely.

Ash wanted to talk, ask questions say something, but when he tried, the thumping in his throat stopped him. His hands and shoulders were tense from their journey, and his heart was racing from adrenaline. Misty flew over the construction zone, gun in hand, and he stumbled over his own feet. Cursing at himself to get it together, he focused his eyes on the path in front of him, taking his eyes off of Misty's back, then coming to a sudden stop, when his forehead collided with her broad shoulders.

"Hey-" Ash started, but Misty's pale face stopped him from speaking; Ash knew that expression, but he wore it most of his life through the academy—horrified. He looked briefly to her green eyes, then followed her vision to the river, where a chain link fence ran through the center, tied with yellow and pink ribbons, carried the young woman against the soft currents. The water dragged her body down, but her hospital gown remained floating.

Ash stopped thinking. He wasn't thinking the entire pursuit, actually. Nothing but white noise until Misty re-holstered her gun and looked around the area. She was halfway into the river when Ash snapped back.

"What are you doing?"  
"Stay there." Misty ordered as he approached. "Call for back up, and watch for anyone. We can't leave her down here."

"Leave her?" he asked, clearly not up to speed that the woman floating upside down was lifeless—if the trickle of red rising to the surface and reflecting off the last gleam of sunlight was any red flags.

Misty did not answer, but when she approached the body, touching the woman's shoulders once, then twice and there was no response, Ash felt his stomach turn inside out. Leaving the body in the water could mar evidence, as was stated in most of the books Ash read, so when Misty collected the woman's arms and dragged her to the edge of the stream with the help of the water, then motioned for Ash to help. He felt pathetic knowing his feet were heavier than lead.

She nudged her shoulders once, trying to ask for Ash's help—he saw the way her face screwed up, hating the fact that she was currently handling a body she helped save not even twenty-four hours ago, and then the look of apprehension when she realized Ash wasn't budging. At all.

"Hey." She barked, sounding harsher than she looked. "Get down here." She asked, but Ash had gone white, the tromp of men's feet echoed from the distance coming this way, and before disappointment appeared, sympathy resurfaced.

"Ash," She called, noticing how his eyes didn't leave Bianca's tangled mess of black hair, where he saw blood oozing out the back of her scalp. Her face was still hidden, but that wasn't an image he was yet prepared for, and Misty saw it. She tried again.

"Ash, call in back up. Walk away."

By the time Ash had the phone to his face, hospital security arrived, and Misty had ushered them away from the scene after allowing one of the toned men, touting a military background, help her remove Bianca Reed from the water. She set up a perimeter around the area, demanded her room be quarantined and closed off as a crime scene for the time being, all the while taking notes from what the security officers took from the film they back-tracked.

Meanwhile, Ash couldn't take his eyes away from the cold, blank stare of her wide eyes. Surprised mashed over her face—no pain, no bruising. Just blood dripping through the veils of long wet hair, and the slow fade of color. It's a face Ash would see in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

 **XOX**

"Let me get this straight, you were on your way to talk with her _when_ you found out she was already taken?"

Misty breathed, she was dealing with fellow detective and rival, Paul Shinji, who was forced to work the late shift. Hearing that it was Ash making the call, he feared the worse and rushed to the crime scene, only to find Misty helping the removal team with the body, and soaked from her waist down. Ash held her purse. Typical.

"Not taken." Misty objected her former belief. "The security footage that the security officers found showed a man wearing a black hoodie entered her room. Since she appeared to know him, no one was concerned with who he was. According to some other residents in lower floors, they _thought_ that they saw something fall from a distance, but by that time we were already on our way. I'll have to interview them later."

"An accident then?" _like Ash suspected_ , he said nothing, however. Misty was currently fuming because Paul was stepping on her case. Well, what was no going to be an official case, anyways.

"Most likely. She had an episode yesterday at a Lumoise Bakery, it's possible she wasn't yet fully recovered enough to be scaling ladders—but who ever came to get her probably had her spooked and they tried to escape." Misty and Paul talked next to the body, as if Ash wasn't there, and neither was Bianca. She wasn't, after all, not really. Not anymore.

"The injury on the back of her head correlates to the marking we found on the hard ground outside of the window—she probably fell, hit her head, and then they, or he, tried to move her anyways. She was dead before she hit the water."

"Tragic." Paul sneered, through he sounded more tired than sad. He rubbed his face, the pensive look practically a tattoo. Forensics, a group of Oak's underlings, were already on their way to prove Misty's assumptions. Criminal photographers from the night shift that Ash didn't know the names of were taking pictures of the body, and no one had thought to cover the young woman until the working nurse on that floor came out, in a blubbering mess of tears.

In hospitals, people died all the time—but not usually because they fell two stories trying to escape off an ill—stationed fire escape. Whoever tried to leave with Bianca was already long gone—there was no point in sending anyone into the Viridian Forest after night fall, the forest was a maze in the daylight, no one wanted to maneuver it in the dark. Besides, the man had probably already used the stream to travel, since there were no foot prints on the other side of the fence; so they would need to follow the river, then find a set of prints, and for reasons Ash could only assume was _under staffed_ , they didn't send a team right away.

Misty pushed for them—said she would go herself before Paul Shinji arrived, and talked her out of it.

 _No point in getting lost out there, we need to be smart about this._ He said, backing it up with the thoughts that this was more than likely an accident—the man was scared. Scared people made mistakes, and would reappear soon enough.

Paul didn't remain for long, he had other business to attend to, but assured Misty he would start a file for the case while she played clean up. They waited for an hour, watching several different people come in, put up caution tape. Misty handled the staff of the hospital; got a copy of the surveillance cameras from all angles, helped clean up the field for photographers, spoke with a few witnesses in the room near the drop point; and helped pack up the gear.

All the while, Ash had moved to sitting near a large machine, watching them bag the body from a distance—the first to arrive, the last to go. The irony. He still held onto Misty's purse, the look not lost to him; however, he found he didn't care what other people thought of him at the moment. He never wanted to see another dead body again. Especially not one that was alive only a few hours ago. Misty might have been rolling with the punches, but for each one she rolled through, it hit Ash square in the face, then the gut, and continuously kicked him while he was down.

Suddenly, the left overs in Misty's purse smelled nothing like his mother's cooking, and more like rotten apples. Ash had only ever seen two bodies in his life.

His father's, during the short funeral when he was ten. And her.

This was far worse; she wasn't dressed up, or caked in make up—or laid beautifully to rest with flowers in her hands, adored by family and friends. She was ruined, no family around, no friends; when she was in the hospital, no one even bothered to visit the first twenty four hours. She was all alone. Ash never stopped to think how sad that was until now.

"How you holding up?" Misty asked, her voice owning a softer edge than he was used to. He didn't look up at her, didn't blink.

"I'm fine." he lied.

Somehow, she knew he was lying—not that he was very convincing—so as the morgue affairs unit bagged the body, and hoisted it to their truck; she took a seat beside him.

"I get it." She hummed quietly, and finally, Ash's wide eyes turned at her as she took her purse and re-shouldered the bag. The spinning felt nauseating, and he thought he could throw up—like Gary did. However, in fear of being known as _that guy_ , who carried Misty's purse while she did all the hard work _and_ threw up, he forced his churning at bay, at the sacrifice of his voice.

"I fainted the first time I saw a dead body." She admitted quietly, her voice low. Was that supposed to make him feel better?

They sat quietly for a long time, listening to the hum of the river, the sounds of the hospital, and the distant creep of bugs. By the time Ash felt confident to speak again, the last of the mobile unit was packing their bags, and heading back to the station with notes that would be left on Misty's desk by this evening.

"How did this happen...?"

"I don't know." Misty inhaled, "That's what we're here to find out."

Suddenly, Ash didn't like the sound of that. He didn't want to save people after they were already dead. What kind of hero did that? He wanted to save people _before_ they ended up as another obituary in the news paper. Looking down at his feet, his gaze softened.

"Let me drive you home." offered Misty.

"I'm fine." Ash muttered, though he couldn't fathom moving from this spot, let alone driving the thirty minutes to his house.

"Well that's good, because I wasn't asking." She approached the conversation with an edge, but when he didn't budge or react like he usually did, she sighed.

"Listen," She shoved his shoulder, getting his attention. "This is hard, it's supposed to be hard—but it will only get more difficult if you don't work past it. Now stand up, and let me take you home."

Before he could argue, her fingers were wrapped around his upper arm, and she jerked him from his seat and tugged him with her. To be honest, he didn't have the strength to argue with her, and so he _listened_ , and let her drag him along.

Ash couldn't save everyone. That was the first thing they taught new recruits in the academy. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what precautions were taken. Not everyone could be saved, either from their own wishes, or their own mistakes. The only thing a police officer could do was try their best, and do their best to keep the peace, and save as many as possible.

He breathed, and looked up surprised to see Misty holding a cup of water in her hand that she fetched from the hospital's drinking fountain, and stuck it out to him. He hadn't even been aware that they went through the main hospital floor, to the parking lot. How they got there was completely relapsed from his memory—probably shock.

"Drink this and for your mother's sake, get in my car."

Ash stared at the water, fearful that if he didn't take it, she was going to splash him in the face. His hands weren't shaking when he grabbed the plastic cup, and she seemed immediately relieved that he did. For someone who was so tough, she certainly had a soft spot, and so he relaxed.

"Okay, but don't tell my mom."  
"I won't even go inside." She insured him, pulling open the passenger door for him.

 **XOX**

Misty was good for her word, she didn't go inside, but she did stay annoyingly parked at the end of the drive way until she saw Ash go inside. Only then did he see headlights peel out of his driveway, and his body go limp against the front door.

Pikachu pranced into the entrance, eager to please Ash by showing off the assortment of goodies that Pikachu found around the house and stashed specifically for Ash to look at when he came home after a long day, but Ash only wanted to find his bed, and crawl under his covers for a few hours after locking every window and door in his house.

"Ash, you're home, how did everything go?"  
He looked at her grimly, but forced a smile; for his mom, Ash could lie about this.

"It went okay. Wasn't what we expected."

"Was the girl okay?" A twang of pain hit his chest, and still he held his smile as he hugged his mom a little tighter than usual that night.

"Yeah." He lied.

 **XOX**

Who knew that seeing a dead body would make him unable to sleep. He spent the better part of the night looking at his old posters of his favorite video games and cartoons, and skimming through one of his mom's crappy romance novels. Pikachu was sprawled out at the end of his bed as usual, but even that didn't sooth the ache in Ash's head, or the discomfort in his bones. For awhile, he wondered if Misty felt the same way, or if she worked on the force long enough to be numb to it by now. He wondered how long it would take until _he_ was numb to it, but then rubbed the back of his neck.

That sounded so cruel, but this was _hard_ , he couldn't shut his eyes without seeing her face—and more importantly, without the thought that the girl's thoughtless associate was still out there some where, and he had to wait until Monday morning for any information.

Until they had more information, this _accident_ was to be treated like any criminal case. The man was involved in murder, and if not that—then manslaughter. If it was an accident, he should have stuck around. He shouldn't have even been trying to smuggle a girl out of her window in the first place, but Ash knew people in a panic didn't always think clearly.

He recalled her saying someone was looking for her, but tried to squeeze it out of his brain. What if this wasn't _really_ an accident? What if this was the man Bianca was talking about— _what if_ she was crawling out of her window to get away from him, not to go with him?

Suddenly, Ash broke into a cold sweat, and was peeling his sheets off his bed and tiptoeing to his laptop computer that rested on his messy desk.

Maybe there was some information that they missed. After all, he didn't even know her name before arriving at the hospital, but now it was engraved in his mind. He opened up the internet browser and punched her name into the search engine to find one hundred women with the same name, just in the Kanto City area. Already, this seemed hopeless.

So instead, he broadened his horizons, and started on social media sites. She was no older than Misty, which meant that she had to be into social media _everyone_ under the age of forty was. He wasn't surprised when he punched in her name, and discovered that his own account had friends who were friends with an Bianca Reed who had black hair. She looked healthier in her picture, smiling, happy, not the washed out mess that he and Misty found _scribbling in a notebook_ in the-

Ash's eyes stared up at the ceiling, and he found himself typing in another name.

 _Serena, Lumiose Bakery_.

 **XOX**

"Ash, it's two in the morning. I swear you better have a good reason for this." Brock warned him as he pulled into the destination that he and Ash agreed on. If Ash left in the middle of the night, regardless of his age, Delia would worry, so he asked Brock to meet him at the end of the street.

"I do, and it's important." Ash opened his phone to read Brock an address. "We need to go to north Vaniville Drive."

"Oh man, in the Lavender district? What the hell for?"  
"I need to pick up a girl."

Brock deadpanned at Ash with pursed lips and Ash stared back stoically. He was serious, and this was no laughing matter. Brock glared, waiting to see Ash crack—but he knew Ash wasn't the kind of guy that just made random late night booty calls, and even if he did, he would never ask Brock to be the delivery boy. So, he put the car in drive and sighed.

"Do I at least get to know what this is about?"

 **XOX**

Serena waited at the side of the road, holding her small purse to her chest. She was alarmed when Ash called her so late in the night, but the sound of urgency in his voice when he explained the situation made perfect sense. _Sort of_ , he sounded a bit frazzled and on the crazy side of exhausted and she didn't really know him that well... but he was a cop, so it was her duty to help him, right?

However, when he pulled up in a simple, silver sedan, to the bus stop where she was waiting, she had some second thoughts. Riding in the passenger seat was Ash, but a tall, dark man with squinted eyes wearing funny-bunny pajamas was in the drivers seat.

"Uhm...?" she fidgeted.

"It looks weird, I know." Ash muttered, since he was still in his pajamas as well. He at least threw on a sophisticated shirt and put a pair of blue jeans on over his goofy bottoms. To relieve the stress on her face, he showed her his badge and her shoulders drooped.

"This couldn't wait until the morning?"

"Nope." Ash mumbled. "You guys open and I have to be sure it wasn't moved. The sooner I check, the better."

"Did he tell you what he's goin' on about?"  
Serena felt her cheeks go red as she climbed into the back seat. She couldn't very well say _no_ since she knew neither of these men and was willing to come out in the middle of the night to see them, so she nodded.

"Enough."

"See, I don't know nothin' but the fact that I am in a car at two in the mornin', Ash!"

"There was a girl yesterday that was sick in the bakery, we shut down for the rest of the weekend after it. A-Ash said it has something to do with that." The way that she stammered over his name embarrassed her. Luckily, no one else noticed, but she hid her face in her hands while Brock grumbled and started for the Celadon area. At least there was no traffic this time of night.

"I told you; I can't say anything. If this is a real investigation I don't want to ruin anything..."

"Great, but why couldn't you drive yourself, man? I have work in the morning." Brock yawned, and even though he had already asked this question a million times, and knew the answer, Ash replied anyways.

"I told you, Misty drove me home last night."

Serena's eyebrow raised in the back seat, but she said nothing. She might have asked why his partner wasn't here now if she wasn't more interested in the way Ash stuck to the side of the door, he looked like he had just seen a ghost, and Brock was trying to play it cool by acting angry, but she saw that he was worried about what was going on, as well.

 **XOX**

Ash took the keys to the bakery from Serena, and asked her and Brock to _please_ stay inside the vehicle, just in case someone else realized this before he did. If it wasn't for the adrenaline, he might have convinced himself to wait and stake out the building until he could convince Misty to come with him. Not that she wouldn't, she hadn't refused any offer to help someone yet, but after watching her play the hero for a whole day, he was kind of sick of playing Robin. It was his turn to be Batman, and damn it, he was going to get that notebook before her.

He wasn't even sure that Misty saw that the young woman was writing in it, and when she started freaking out, Ash remembered that she flung the object into the corner some where—hopefully the staff didn't move it. Serena mentioned that she had no memory of the book, and so his chances were high that it was still wedged between the wall and the counter.

He clicked on a flashlight that he carried in his pocket, and walked around the crisp, clean tile of the bakery. The tables were put back in order, each set had empty vases where flowers were previously, and the pastries in the front were packaged and put away. After all, they advertised the bakery as an _always fresh_ bakery. They wouldn't leave food out all night.

But his thoughts were heavy with things other than food. Like if he wasn't in here alone, not that he had any reason to believe he wouldn't be—the night just made him a little more cautious than he had been before. He found Bianca's table, and then started his search for the item in question, dipping around the table, looking between trashcans and extra chairs until he found the notebook cast aside, having rolled underneath one of the bistro tables' booth.

Ash crawled on his hands and knees, set the flashlight down for only a second, and then pawed at the object below, fishing it from its entrapment and was on his feet again.

"It's still here." He hummed in success and looked around the room—only then did he see the kitchen light turn on.

His pulse quickened. He had nothing to defend himself but the pair of slippers he wore and a partially broken flashlight. Ash clicked the light off and stuffed it back into his pocket, walking quickly back to the front door like some kind of coward. He remembered the way back down, even without a light—but the sound of heels clicking on the tile made his blood run cold, and his feet move faster.

If he had some kind of weapon, he could defend himself, but Misty hadn't issued a gun to him yet, and he was _technically_ breaking and entering. So, he ran, and after he slipped out of the front door, he sprinted back to the car and threw his hands around wildly trying to get Brock to start the car so they could leave _now_!

Ash hit the car with a thump, then threw open the door, and slipped inside.

"Drive, drive, drive!" Ash commanded, hitting the dashboard while Brock reversed out of the driveway and back onto the main, all the while screaming about how he didn't want some psycho killer having his license plate. Ash watched the light of the bakery and saw lights flicker inside, and knew his instincts were right. Someone else was there right behind him.

"Oh man, should I call the police?"

"They'll be gone before they get there..." Ash muttered, then looked over his shoulder at Serena who watched quietly, as if she had done something wrong by letting Ash in. He handed her the keys. "Besides, I am the police, and I got what we needed." He looked down at the partially ruined, notebook that clearly had bile stains and some brown-ish colored stains, but he looked relieved nonetheless.

Serena wasn't as confident, and Brock was still focused on driving faster.

"It just feels so wrong."

"Yeah, well, just don't tattle on me, and we're golden." Ash mumbled from the front seat, and Brock rolled his eyes. They could put a badge on him, but he would always be the young trouble maker, Ash Ketchum.

 **XOX**

Ash was ready for Misty this morning. Brock was a saint, and drove him to his truck at the hospital before driving home that night, and Ash was given just enough time to get home, shower, read the notebook from front to back, take a few notes, and then drive to work. He was roughly an hour early, but sleep wouldn't come no matter how much he tried.

What he found in the notebook was the summation of the ramblings of a lunatic—but it had names, and numbers, and a few addresses that Ash was sure to write down. He was in the middle of writing them down when he realized it was a quarter after six, and he looked and felt like hell.

His jacket stuck to him from his sweat, his blue shirt reminded him too much of yesterday, he could still feel his blood pumping aggressively in his veins; and right around the morning sunrise, he decided to take a walk after stuffing the papers and notebook into his filing cabinet.

The air was nice and crisp in the morning, the fresh scent of dew still clinging to the trees, and while Kanto City was always growing larger, the smells were always the same forest and pine-tree scents that worked like muscles relaxers for the young Ketchum; that, and the sunrise. He would kill to see the sunrise during the worst days of his life; and he needed to see it this morning more than anything else. He wasn't sure he could do this. Sleepless nights, constantly worried about his surroundings, judging people before he spoke to them—it was all so foreign that he nearly missed the simplicity of being a traffic cop. At least then his job was easy. Give tickets to bad drivers.

..Now, he was chasing down a killer who could never be found, for the accidental murder of a drug addict who used to be a kind, and happy science teacher at an elementary school, only to put the man behind bars _if_ they caught whoever it was. But, this is what he wanted, after all. He complained about not enough excitement all week, and now that he had it he...

How things had changed in a week.

Ash sat at the bench only a block away from the station when the rumblings of a couple caught his eye.

"I'm tellin' you, we'll use the cat as bait, and then mug 'em when he's not expecting it." The woman cackled, smashing her hands together for emphasis. Ash's ears perked up and he leaned over the railing to look down at them.

"Mugging who?"

"Mind your own-" The woman looked up, crystal blue eyes piercing his, followed by a green paired with lavender hair.

"Oh man, Jess, it's a cop!" The man whined, grabbing his comrade by the arm and yanking her away in the other direction. Ash's eyebrows raised. He didn't _tell_ them that he was a cop; but... he looked down at himself again, the gold badge that was barely visible on his waist belt, the way his arms folded over the railing and his brown torso holster showed against his blue button-up, and his breath stilled, then a smile cracked over his lips.

 **XOX**

By the time he arrived back at the station, Misty was already there—an hour early. At seven. Who went to work an hour early? But who was he kidding—he was here earlier than that after last night.

She did, apparently, and today he saw it on her face. She was exhausted. Her eyes dragged dark bags with them wherever she looked, and her hair was flat against her shoulders. She wore a pair of her black slacks, but lost the suit jacket for the day, in favor of a practical, silky blue button up that swished every time she moved. Her shoulder holster was fastened, and he saw the live weapon tucked under her left arm and the rest of her gear on the right. Her badge was placed on her hip where it was always located, but today for someone who looked so put together, she seemed oddly on edge.

It must have been the way she tapped her pen aggressively against the desk and gnawed on her lip, and ran her fingers through her hair for the tenth time that minute.

She hadn't even noticed that Ash entered the office.

"What'cha doin?" He asked, and watched the crazed look in her eye resurface as she spun around, reaching for her weapon. Ash surprised himself by not flinching at her reaction, but smiled in response to her heavy sigh.

"Don't do that." She breathed, then turned back to her paperwork, only to look back at him right away, a stern, and terribly confused expression wrecking havoc over her features.

"You're here early." Her eyes flashed to the clock to reassess her accusation. "Really early."

"You, too." He remarked as he approached his desk. "Are you always here this early?"

"I have a-" _hard time sleeping_ , he thought she was going to say, but she muffled it and nodded. "It's good practice."

Right, he was beginning to see through this facade she worked so hard to create.

"Did you get home okay?"

"Oh, yeah, my mom made brownies."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Misty muttered, knowing that Ash would probably never view brownies the same again. Without him having to say it, Misty offered a sympathetic smile.

"I can't have oatmeal cookies anymore. My sisters sent me some after my first dead body and, man..."

"That wasn't my first." Ash said suddenly, knocking her off guard. He saw the momentary swirl of fear in her eyes, followed by concern, but then curiosity she wouldn't delve into.

"I see." and for a short moment, Misty detached herself from the situation, grabbed her empty thermos and pointed to the door.

"I'm going to get some coffee. Don't knock it out of my hand this time, okay?" She said, trying to earn a laugh from the young man, but he simply stared and then found a scowl to offer up. Close enough.

Once she was gone, Ash looked at her desk, saw that over night her file basket grew three sizes. He stooped to glance over them, curious what was causing her tension; when he saw a list of interviews she had to meet; as well as dealings with the county sheriff in the afternoon about the recent 'TF' murders. He bounced back to his seat once he heard her approaching and leaned backwards to sift through his files and grab the notebook he acquired last night. Misty was back so quickly, he literally jumped, but she hadn't noticed.

"You know, last night I remembered that girl, she was writing in a notebook when we went into the bakery yesterday." She seemed tense while she walked to her desk, sipping her coffee. Her words caught Ash's attention and he kept the notebook from her view.

"Funny, I called when they opened at six this morning, and apparently someone had broken in last night." She sipped her coffee, and Ash suddenly tried to hide the notebook.

Ash felt his chest tighten and a cold sweat trickle down his back. He should have been overjoyed that Misty was on the same wavelength as him, but she didn't sound as happy. Would he get in trouble for finding the notebook, could it be considered tampering with evidence? Ash inhaled shakily, meeting her eyes. They were tantalizing, questioning, and while she knew there was clearly something _wrong_ with him based on his current reaction, she had no idea it would be this. When he held up the notebook, her sly smirk disappeared completely.

"How'd you get in?" She asked, not moving.

"Front door." her face screwed up at his response, as if that wasn't the one she was expecting. She sat back, leaned forward, then finally stood up to approach Ash. Without speaking, she rested her coffee on his desk, snatched the folder he so carefully outlined with an extra page of his own notes wedged between the pages, then glared down at him.

"How?"

"...I got a key."

"From who?"

Ash tugged on his collar. "...Serena..."

"The baker." Misty insisted, then leaned against his desk to sit as she snooped through the pages, her long legs crossed at the knees, and Ash forced himself to stare at her tentative gaze.

"She's the owner's daughter, you know." Misty confessed immediately. "the security footage was tampered with last night... You said you used the front door?"

Ash gulped, he didn't mess with the footage, but he had a feeling he knew who did. "Yeah."

Suddenly, she was staring down at him with those sea-green eyes, a glare so harsh he felt shivers down his back as he swallowed, and tried to scoot away.

"What possessed you to go?"

"I.." he swallowed, his mouth surprisingly dry. "I remembered she had a notebook...and said someone was following her, I just.. I assumed." he ended with a slight cough, and Misty sat back again. She didn't speak, shuffled to her desk to grab a paper he might have glanced over earlier, and brought it back to drop onto his desk, and gently swat him over the head with the notebook he found.

"ow." he muttered, glaring momentarily at her then reading over the document she left for him.

It was a breaking and entering report filed by a Grace Yvonne shortly after 6:00am, the back door knob was busted off, and the security room and lobby was smashed to pieces. Ash exhaled.

"I didn't do this." he insisted, and Misty smacked her lips.

"Only Serena knows you went in."

"Yeah, but someone came in right after me, I swear. I ran before-"

She was suddenly giddy, on the edge of her seat with muted giggles. "You _ran_?"

A ping tinge rose to his cheeks, and he looked away from her, and covered the official police report with his hands whiles he had herself a nice laugh at his expense.

"I got to tell you, I'm surprised." Ash wasn't sure he was hearing her correctly, she actually sounded _happy._ Unsure of her motive, he glowered at her with furrowed brows, watching the smile tug on her lips.

"That was some quick thinking. If you hadn't gone in when you did, this would be gone. Good job."

 _Good job_? He gulped.

"What?" He asked and Misty set the notebook on the desk, not to remove anymore of the integrity of the files there.

"Good job. It was a nice call. I realized it last night, but didn't think the notebook would be in danger so I put it off until morning. Clearly, that was a mistake. So, _good job_."

He blinked once, that couldn't be it. She seemed so stoic the way her arms shrugged and she licked her lips.

"But..." there it was, he winced. "If you're going to do something stupid like this again, you need to at the very least tell me. What you did put the whole department at risk. Key or not, you still messed with a crime scene, not to mention could have stumbled into the killer unarmed—I'm assuming you were unarmed—plus you brought a civilian with you." There it was, the scolding he was expecting, but at least it wasn't angry scolding where he was the butt of the joke—it was a serious scolding, a worried scolding... but her eyes were still intimidating.

Maybe it was the exhaustion talking. "I had to do something." he said and Misty nodded.

"You did. And this _one time_ , you made the right call." she playfully swatted his shoulder, and he flinched.

"It's definitly a step up from carrying my purse and wetting your pants."

Ash's jaw dropped. "I did not wet my pants."

"You might as well have." Misty snorted, shoulders rolling as she walked away from him, waving over her shoulder.

"Misty—I did _not—Mis—Detective!"_ He shouted after her as she walked to Jenny's office. His hands were pressed alarmingly against his desk to ease the tesnsion. "Where are you going?!"

She turned, that all knowing, sarcastic smirk over her lips. "I'm going to tell Jenny, of course. Technically, that's an escape and a break in—I'd say that's room for a case, _at least_."

As she spun around once more, with her back to him, his jaw to the floor.

 **XOX**

Misty was still talking with Jenny when Gary walked in a quarter to seven. Ash had ditched his suit jacket, was chugging back a large cup of black coffee, and looking up names in the system that he could remember from that stupid notebook that Misty confiscated.

"H-eeeey Ashy-boy." Gary mocked, though Ash had no time for Gary's crap today. "I heard you had a hard time at a crime scene yesterday? Wet your pants, did you?"

 _Was it Misty that started that rumor?_ If so Ash was going to...he looked up at Gary, eyes dark, and patience thin.

"What do you want?" Ash shot back at Gary, his intense gaze shut the auburn man up, and he found his desk quietly.

"Who _pissed_ in your cereal?" Gary muttered the joke quietly and sniffed while looking at the files that were left for him by Paul. Based on his confusion, he was completely unaware that Paul wouldn't be joining them today, but Ash kept the news to himself. Apparently, that's what they did, they kept things to themselves—Ash snapped the pencil he was taking notes with and exhaled. _Damn her_.

"Detective Ketchum." Jenny called to him, and Ash's eyes lit up when he saw the blue haired woman looking sternly at him.

"My office."

"Oooh, busted." Gary sung under his breath, and Ash bit his tongue and rolled his eyes with the lids closed; because he was ready to punch the egotistic man out for the light heartened quip today. He had no patience. None.

Not for Jenny, not for Misty, not for anyone.

When he stepped into the room, Misty looked frustrated, and her arms were crossed angrily when Ash walked in. Complete opposite of her excitement earlier. He didn't bother sitting, on the account he thought he would be packing his bags here in a minute. He shot Misty an aggressive look—completely blindsided and in disbelief that she could be so heartless, to rat him out, then Jenny shut the door and took a seat behind her desk.

"I already told you, it was perfectly legal. We talked to Serena this morning." Misty jumped immediately to his defense, much to his surprise.

"I don't care." Jenny snapped and Misty cocked her jaw to the side and Ash felt a wave a nausea hit is stomach. He hated when he was wrong about the redhead. His anger was replaced by concern now. Jenny didn't look happy. At all.

"You broke into a building after hours on a whim. You thought it was illegal, or you at least must have based on the information you didn't have before this, all to look for a book that might not have been there, for a case we haven't even started writing reports for, on a perfectly _good_ Sunday when you could have called any working members of the force."

"It could have been gone by the time anyone else got there—and as you saw, it _would_ have been. That guy-"

"You can talk when I say you can!" Jenny hissed, eyes narrowed.

"You were lucky, you didn't think about this at all before you ran in there—you didn't even bother to call your senior detective to share what you found, you ran in with civilians at the door waiting for you; under protected and unarmed!"

Ash held his breath.

"This is the worst, disrespectful stunt this force has seen in years—"

 _"Years_?" Misty sneered, laughing under her breath, in as much disbelief as Ash was about Jenny's apparently anger.

"Did you consider what the media would say if you were caught? Did you think of that? Or not until Detective Waterflower told you this morning? You know, when the federal government hired you, I had high hopes given the wonderful detective that your father was, but you..." she breathed fire, or she might as well have. Ah, so it wasn't Jenny that hired him after all? Fair enough.

"You. Ash Ketchum, are suspended for a month."

"What?" Ash gasped, eyes widening.

"Jenny." Misty groaned from the side of the office, clearly done with the one sided lecture. "He messed up, _in our favor._ This wasn't even a real case until we had this, with clear outlining that this woman was being followed. If he didn't _find_ this, we'd have to brush what happened off as an accident. If I had known you would react this way, I wouldn't have even bothered to tell you _how_ we got the notebook for real, you're being asinine!"

"Don't you talk back to me-"

Ash suddenly felt like he was in verbal warfare.

"No!" Misty snapped. "How you've been running this place the last few months is insane. Anytime anyone messes up you fire them! We were so understaffed last night, I couldn't even put together a search party for the assailant!"

"There was no assailant!" Jenny shouted. "You know it takes more than a feeling to start an investigation, Detective, and I'm ashamed you're playing along with this behavior!"

"Maybe it's because we're not even allowed to do our jobs anymore in fear that if we do a good job, we get fired, if we screw up, we get fired!" she inhaled before preparing for another verbal lashing. "You've turned into a tyrant since the incident with Red, most people don't even enjoy coming into work anymore and we're all walking on eggshells! We went through the purge, the cleanse, the firing of half of our staff and the government take over\\! We've been through interviews and crisis and damn it, the people here are sick of feeling the repercussions of the mistakes of a few crooked cops!"

"A few?!" Jenny hollered. "All but _two_ of my detectives were sent to prison, Waterflower!"

Ash felt the need to huddle into a far corner. The spitting match felt like one between a mother and daughter. Awkward tension pulled at him as he tried to think of a good way to end the verbal match. Neither were budging otherwise.

"Yeah, and the ones left behind shouldn't be punished! This is too harsh of a punishment and _you know that_! He found probably cause, he started a case, _I came to you for your_ permission. I remember a time when I didn't need _permission_ to hunt down sick animals! His mistake ended with six names on a list, three addresses and a phone number, and you're going to suspend him for that?"

Jenny didn't add anything after that, but Misty still had more to say, however, when she went to yell Ash chimed in bravely.

"I know..." Ash exhaled calmly. "I know I wouldn't have been your first choice—I don't have the experience that other cops have and...to be honest I didn't do so well in the academy. I was only a traffic cop for a few months after graduating, and I only took the test for detective because I wanted to miss a shift of work sitting on route one...so, yeah...maybe I don't deserve to be here but I do want to help. I want to stop people from dying, and return the police department back to its former glory..."

Ash, recalling the images he had witnessed the night prior felt his voice quiver, then grow stronger with each word.

"I'm not going anywhere. If you suspend me, I'll just look for this guy on my own time, without your permission." he paused, glanced at Misty, then stared back at Jenny affirmatively.

"...Sir." he added as an afterthought, and the chief stared at him cautiously for a long time, but then raised her hand.

"Fine." She mouthed and cocked her jaw. "You're not suspended, but leave before I change my mind."

Ash didn't expect that to work, and so he stood flabbergasted at the chief until Misty gripped his upper arm, and dragged him out of the office with his mouth still hung open. The room was far from sound proof, so multiple sets of eyes were on them, including Gary's, and Casey's, and Ritchie's and Tracey's, and Clemont's—but then a wave of serenity washed over them when Misty cracked a smile.

"Good day to be a cop, huh?" Misty said, sweeping past Ash and still dragging his stunned expression to the detectives unit. Once there, she set him up against his desk and both she an Gary zoned in on him.

"I've never talked back to a supervisor and changed their mind before." Ash mumbled in his awe.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Misty grinned, her eyes squinting devilishly. Behind her eyes, he saw that this was a very common situation for her. Ash didn't reply.

"Well, since you're not suspended, why don't we get you fitted for your gun and check out a few of those house numbers?"

The proposition of work returned air to his lungs and he nodded frantically. Gary watched the two of them.

"What am I supposed to do? Paul's out today. Bastard didn't even tell me..."

Misty looked up, then down, then she glanced at Ash, then to her desk.

"There's some files you can double check on my desk."

And while Gary knew he was being duped, he still gave the woman credit by cocking a half-baked smile while shaking his head. They were definitely a match made in heaven.

 **Author's Note** :

DERMAAA (drama)

A lot happened this chapter! I originally had it broken up into two chapters, but I thought it worked okay like this too. When you're exhausted and running on adrenaline, life is a blur. That's why the first part of the chapter was slow, then it progressed quickly, until the end of the chapter where Ash -sort of- got over his hump. (Give the kid a break, he hasn't slept!)

Ash would be the paranoid one that remembered small details; Misty would realize them later. I'm trying to show internal conflict in the station; foreshadowing of being understaffed, questioning how Ash got hired, etcetc. I don't think Ash could handle being around bodies, in particular. BUT we learn more as we go! Hurray!


	7. Chapter 7: The tides turn

**So You Want to be a Cop,** Chapter 7

Ash could name on one hand how many times in his life he participated in a moment that took his breath away: being outfitted with his proper detective equipment was on top of the list. Misty had a Glock 22 ready for him by noon, and a compiled list of locations that they needed to search based on his notes from the notebook. She was fast, efficient, and when she wasn't upset with him—surprisingly fun to be around. Not that fun had anything to do with catching a criminal, but her easing up on the reigns allowed for some leverage, some relationship building.

For example, he learned quickly that she hated peppers shortly after a quick bite to eat at some small sandwich location, despised bugs as noted by the many stops they made at empty, abandoned houses that were infested with bugs; most of the locations were shells of their former selves. Shacks decayed to a point that entrance was dangerous and irrational. Ash wondered how they even existed in a city like Kanto, where the buildings were taken care of. Living in Pallet Farms, he rarely saw this side of Kanto City, and it came as a shock.

According to Misty, a ton of shady business happened around the city that he would eventually get used to, and her sharing this information only made his adrenaline pump faster. Only, what was supposed to derail his excitement only fueled him with more; he was more driven than ever to clean up the city!

Time and again Misty reminded him that their search was not technically a homicide case, so their methods were not ordinary. First, they checked Bianca Reed's profile in the system, and whatever they could pull up from the internet. She and her family were from Unova City, but they were distanced and unreachable, they didn't answer phone calls and hadn't returned any messages. Otherwise, Bianca had no former criminal charges, she wasn't in the police database until a few days ago when Misty performed CPR on her at the bakery. Lastly, Bianca's death was not yet notified to the public, and wouldn't be until after the autopsy. That gave Misty and Ash a nearly twenty-four hour window to find any instance of foul play—otherwise the incident would be chalked up an accident, and no case would be filed.

Ash was very determined that wouldn't happen since they had several locations to find, surveillance videos to view, and a body for information. They had a plethora of chances to find out what _really_ happened, and if Ash followed his gut—he knew that they would find something.

In the mean time, Ash and Misty zoomed through traffic to check their next lead.

"The next one is in Lavender peaks."

"Yeah?" Misty hummed, expertly maneuvering the steering wheel and taking a bite of her sandwich. Ash pointed to the location on the map, and held it up for Misty. For the third time that day, or possibly the hundredth, Misty rolled her eyes.

"That's the wrong side of town. You're holding the map upside down again."

"Oh," His face was pink with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"I think you should just put the address into my phone, and we'll find it that way. I'm tired of getting lost." With a huff, Misty twisted her phone from her pocket and handed it to a terrified Ash; as if access to her phone was the key to hell.

Ash stammered, clearly uncomfortable.

"Misty, I'm not-"

"It's for work—and besides do you have data on yours?" her tone was mocking, and she knew without asking that Ash's phone was a glorified brick they would have to upgrade like the rest of his wardrobe.

Ash's lips pursed.

 _No, but that wasn't the point_ , Ash wanted to tell her, but instead, he snatched the small phone between his fingers, tossed her a hateful gaze that went unnoticed, and then swiped open the screen to her world.

May once told Ash if she ever caught him with her phone, she'd chop his fingers off—Brock shared the sentiments, so having Misty share hers so mindlessly was frightening, nearly to the point of distrust. Then, when the screen appeared and he saw the image of Misty and three other girls; her sisters, he assumed, standing on a beach as her screen saver; he felt sweat drop at how painfully _normal_ she really seemed.

"Stop gawking. GPS is in the top corner; don't snoop or anything." She warned him exactly once, and Ash shoved the awkwardness aside.

They weren't close enough to feel comfortable snooping, and she was Ash's co-worker, not friend. This was business, not time to goof around. He ignored the 'three unread messages' tick at the top of the screen, and tapped into the GPS without another thought. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath.

"You know how to work one of those, right?" Her eyebrow wiggled her sarcasm. Ash scoffed.

"Of course."

 **XOX**

When they arrived at the small cabin, he was surprised to see it was still standing. Like the last few addresses they followed, the location was hardly one at all. It even had a tree growing through the base, and was located nearly ten minutes off the road by foot. Misty was swearing, having decided to wear a set of ankle boots that were covered in mud whereas Ash didn't seem to mind the boots he paid over hundred dollars for getting muddy. If anything, they felt more broken in.

"Stupid drug houses. Why can't they ever go to some kind of warm beach—live under a tree or-" Misty swore behind him, flicking her wrist and rubbing the back of her neck. She climbed over a rather uncomfortable looking root to the door step where Ash was already waiting, with his hands in his pockets.

"It doesn't sound like anyone is around."

As she found footing on the deck, Ash didn't bother to help her, and she made no attempt to ask.

"We should still be cautious."

"Why? Afraid there might be b-u-g-s inside?" he teased in a tone that earned him a growl.

Misty didn't speak as she unclasped the safety on her holster and nodded to Ash to watch the side of the door before she stepped back, and with one powerful kick, busted it open. Rotten wood cracked beneath the force, and crumpled into the remains of what was possibly a log cabin. Inside, dust flew up and Misty had drawn her weapon, holding it close to her when she stepped through the door.

Like last time—Ash walked in behind her casually, with his hands in his pockets—no one was here.

"You know, it's really handy that none of these places were owned by local businesses or anything. Otherwise, we couldn't justify breaking in."

Ash scratched at his face, watching Misty replace her gun and flick her hair. She wore two inch boots today, a rarity given she preferred more comfortable footwear—what was more important was that of the four buildings they entered, she was able to effortlessly kick open the doors—whereas Ash managed to scuff the first one with his shoe, and likely bruise himself.

He couldn't help thinking what would happen if he ever made her mad enough to kick him. She could probably take off his head. Unknowingly, his head tilted to one side, cracking uncomfortably as he watched her boot tap the ground lazily, demanding his attention elsewhere. He met her unforgiving, pensive expression and smiled sheepishly.

"Where do you work out?" Slipped out of his mouth before he could think otherwise, scratching the back of his neck. Had the comment come from anyone else but her obliviously poor-mannered partner, she might have had a snark reply.

"None of your business." she snapped hastily. "Now can you pay attention?— because if you ask if I have robot legs one more time I'm going to leave you here with the cockroaches."

"I'm telling you, I hit the door at the wrong angle, that's the only reason it didn't open."

Misty snorted; "You screamed 'evil-begone' before falling down and screaming like a little girl."

Ash's arms fell to his side, then he immediately covered his face. As she started to look around the building, his ears turned red and he started to stammer for a proper refutation. Since May so mindlessly pointed out the physical presence of Misty, he wanted to say that he was a normal adult and was actually attracted to her—but every time he imagined her face staring back at him, he only felt scared.

Scared and undeveloped, overwhelmed, inexperienced—and now—the one thing he thought he was better at than her, physical shape, he was falling behind in. To think that the morning started off so grand, now he was, once again, piggy-backing off her lead. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised. After all, he was the one eating ice-cream and she out for a run.

Least it wasn't as terrible as his explanation at lunch regarding the _pirates_...

"Did you hear that?" Her voice pulled him from his thoughts and mindless rummaging through broken items. He had already walked away from her and around the corner of the small, macabre kitchen when he turned to see her, eyeing the room across from them.

"No...?"

"Stay here." she ordered him in a whisper, and once again returned her gun to ready-position, and started forward.

Wanting not to be left behind, he rushed forward.

"I'll do it this time!"

"Wait—Ash-!"

If anyone asked, he'd say that the floorboards attacked him. In the dimly lit main room of the cabin, he stumbled over his own feet, tripped over a lose board, and crashed immediately into the red-head, who spiraled backwards with a thud, then a crash, and finally a groan and yelp so loud his head was spinning—or it was spinning because he knocked it against the wooden floors of the next room.

Actually, if anyone asked him; he'd say that Misty tripped him.

"Arceus fucking mew, Ash, get _off_ of me!" She growled so intensely when he propped up on his hands and knees, he nearly missed the hissing cat escape out the window.

"A-ha! So it was a cat after all! See, Misty—it was nothing to panic over!" he rushed to his feet, snapping his fingers and patting the dust away from his pants as he circled back around to face her—only, she hadn't bothered to stand up yet.

Possibly, she was plotting his unforeseeable death, she might have even been embarrassed for being caught off guard—what the real probability was, was that she had gone through a wooden door thanks to Ash's body weight, and needed a second to recuperate. It all happened so fast he didn't have time to stop himself. Guiltily, Ash tried to reach out for her, having forgotten about their investigation for a moment.

"Here, lemme help-"

"Get away from me! Search the room!" She finally screeched, sitting up on her hands and knees, feeling the mood sour and tension rise once more. She was so angry... there was no need to tell him twice, Ash turned with a jerk.

"Right—Sorry."

For the next few minutes while Misty collected herself and fixed her hair and suit jacket, Ash explored the room. Other than the stray cat they startled, what was left of the room was pathetic; the windows were broken or blacked out with spray paint—the curtains were ripped off and the bed's mattress was gone, leaving only a ruined and rusted metal frame. Inside of the room, a massive leak tore open a hole in the ceiling and left somewhat of a crater beneath the remains of the bed—and the rest of the building had a touch of water damage and the smell of mildew.

Scattered around that were the faint traces of human life—empty soda cans, tarnished and ripped blankets, and even a few bags near a broken desk. Ash wanted to see if they had any identification in them, but the majority were empty, with faded logos on the side. Actually, the largest indication of human life, however, was the half-eaten, and abandoned canned food and ashen-fire pit left dangerous at the center of the room.

"Well, there was definitely someone here."

Misty grunted her reply, which urged Ash to look at her again. She held onto her back like an elderly woman, and made a groaning noise that sucker punched him in the stomach. He wanted to apologize, but when the words tried to come out:

"Oh, walk it off, you're tough aren't you?"  
Green eyes turned like a snake's to face him, a pale look so intense it alone could have flayed him until rage turned to surprise, and surprise turned to panic.

"Put that down!" Ash's eyebrows knit together.

"Sorry—what?"

"Down!" She screamed, slapping his hands harshly, and earning a yelp from Ash who shook his hands free and bit his lip.

"What the hell—it's just a stupid bag!"

Then she stooped, and removed a pair of latex gloves from her back pocket that had Ash immediately wiping his fingers on his pants. _Shit_.

"I swear sometimes..." She scolded, still wincing from the previous collision, and packaging the baggy he picked up with his bare hands, with her properly clothed and dressed ones. "Sometimes you really seem like you know what you're doing—and other times I wonder how in the world you survived this far."

"Mom said I was accident prone as a child. Apparently, I liked trying to electrocute myself and jumping out of the second story window."

His dismissal of her claims, for an overall agreement actually brought a smile to her lips that washed a basin of relief through his veins. Jokes aside, he hunched over to watch her collect samples, since he had no protective wear himself.

"So...What is this?"

Ash didn't need her to tell him that what was once inside of the bags was drugs, or that this place was a temporary home for people no older than him who lost their way—yet, Misty still struggled for a moment or two, unsure of the appropriate words, or maybe a simple distrust of the young detective. Eventually she settled on: "If it's what I think it is... it's nothing good..." she paused, "Let's hope it doesn't come back to be positive in her blood stream."

"By her, you mean Bianca?"

"Yeah, if this location was in her notebook—and we can pull samples off of this..." She exhaled a very long, and deep breath. "...we might have something a little more complicated than an accidental death."

Ash smothered his excitement. "Gee, you sound really impressed by that."

"And you sound too excited—this isn't a game you know."  
 _Ah, good to know uptight Misty never left_. Actually, she stood abruptly, brushing past Ash to _really_ look around the room with a newfound interest that she didn't before, moving objects and obstacles out of her way and taking the smallest of items as evidence—She even removed her phone and photographed what was left of the place while Ash watched with concern—though he would never admit that to her directly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, watching her frantic movements; her calm and collected persona having dissolved in the last few minutes, looking for _anything_.

"I'm fine—aren't you supposed to be looking?" but when she started digging through debris in the closet, Ash put his foot down.

"I think you found it all, Misty. We should get going."

"I'm not leaving until I find..."

 _Ring. Ring._

Misty jerked, _jumped_ , and then sighed when she realized it was her own phone, _in her hand,_ making the noise. Ash would be the first to admit he didn't know her that well, but even he could tell that she was spooked.

"Can it wait?" Misty answered rudely.

"Not unless you want to scrap what's left over off the pavement of the Cycling Bridge." Ash recognized the voice he overheard to be Casey's, and put his shoulders down in his best attempt to listen closely.

A cold quiet crept in, and Misty looked bitterly at the room once, then sighed.

"We'll be there in a minute; at least _try_ to follow protocol this time." Then she hung up, and was on the move once more, the swish and professional trot of her heels clicking once again; and she was herself.

"There's a guy trying to jump off the top of the cycling bridge. Paul is in Cerulean area, so we're going—hurry up!" She was already half way out the door when Ash followed after her, leaving behind the dark, empty building.

 **XOX**

Ash hadn't the mind, or thought to think of Misty's behavior—if he was being honest—he didn't have the care, either, because right now, he was in an action movie, swerving past cars driving 130 kilometers down the free way with the lights blaring and the radio turned onto the rock station, which was playing obnoxious guitar rifts.

"How long did it take you to get used to driving this fast?" Ash shouted over the radio, heart pounding and excitement riddled in his voice. Clutching the steering wheel, white knuckled, and her sunglasses hiding her expression, Misty's eyes never left the road, .

"I'm still not used to it."

Ash's heart sunk, and suddenly he turned the music down, terrified as Misty calmly started to explain.

"I've only been driving alone for a little over six months now—then before that Red did most of the driving, especially in emergency situations."

Ash felt the urge to double check his seat belt, looking ahead to be sure that she was still watching the stop lights and exit rows, despite having the right away. Misty scoffed in the seat beside him, and turned the radio up while he sunk slightly.

"Don't be such a baby—you're tough, _aren't you?"_

Ash felt his stomach churn at the comment being thrown back at him, but refused eye contact in fear of knowing that she might not be watching the road. They were already speeding, and she was only accelerating, probably to make him more uncomfortable.

 **XOX**

Ash wanted to kiss the very ground that was still hoisted into the air when they pulled past the measly traffic left behind on the busy bridge. Misty flashed her badge and lights whenever someone would get in the way, and an upset Ash only wanted to flee the cobalt blue impala of death as quickly as possible.

When she slowed to a crawl, that eventually turned into parking, the adrenaline almost immediately returned, and a grin pulled at his cheeks. This is what he wanted since day one—to feel like a real cop. For weeks, he has been picking himself off the floor, reminding himself that this is what he wanted, and for once, facing the survival of a _real, living_ person, he was beyond stoked. This is what he wanted—to save lives, not help bury dead ones.

The site was already flooded with police officers, and road blocks—they sectioned off parts of the bridge as quickly as possible, but Misty's car was practically swarmed by the media humping the railings for a news story. Lucky for him, Misty's cold disposition and angry face was enough to ward them off—at least, until they saved the man.

The sun was still beaming hot shortly after noon—but up ahead, the equivalent of four stories high, a man with very dark green hair was shouting at a continuously frustrated Casey, who held onto a megaphone as if she was prepared to cheer for a football game, not save a life. Deafening was the sounds around them—one officer directing a single lane of traffic around the bridge that the man at the top of the bridge confirmed was _one more reason he meant nothing_ and that Casey responded with:

"Other people have to get on with their lives too, ya' kno-" Misty snatched the megaphone from her hands as quickly as humanly possible, a confused, slightly appalled expression over her face as Ash contained his snort. Only Casey would say something like that.

"Go redirect traffic." Misty ordered, pointing Casey away who gave her best shoulder slump and eye roll. Ash used the flat of his hand to blot out the sun and squint upward.

"Shouldn't we have a psychologist?"

"I'm close enough..."

Vehemently, or jokingly, Ash appeared concerned, she scowled once more at him—pretty soon, she was going to start getting wrinkles.

"Criminal Psychology and Criminal Justice—just-just stand there, okay?" Wanting things to be more personal, Misty turned the megaphone off, and handed it to Ash, who blinked.

"Who are you!? What happened to the other girl!?" Misty shouted upward.

"Officer Casey is on traffic duty—" Ash tried not to let the way she said _traffic_ duty get under his skin, because not too long ago, he was the beat-cop traffic guide. "My name is Misty Waterflower, I'm here to talk to you."

Misty licked her lips, then shouted; "What's your name?"

"I already said it! It's Joe! Joe Knocks!"

"Well, it's nice to meet you Joe..." She smiled sincerely, her voice sweet, but loud. Ash felt awkward standing next to her, hands at his sides and looking around—the noise fell into the distance, and it was scarily silent.

"I know this might be a little unnecessary, but can you tell me why you're up there?"

"Why wouldn't someone like me be?"  
"What's wrong with someone like you?" Misty countered.

"I've been trying for years! I'm thirty two and still in school, and my wife is already a full-fledged university teacher... I—I'm nothing at this point! I thought trying to fit in was all that I needed but—but-" He had started quivering, or sobbing. "You don't understand!"

Ash gave Misty a concerned look—this guy sounded pretty sad, but Misty's confidence didn't waiver.

"Joe, does your wife know what you're currently doing?"

"No! How could I tell her any of this—that I wasn't accepted back into school, or that I lost my job-!" His feet teetered on the edge of the ramp, his white knuckles were barely clenching at the railing, and below was a fifty-feet free fall to the ocean that would surely devour him. Misty scowled and looked at Ash.

"You love your wife, don't you Joe?"

Hesitation, Joe withdrew to the bridge ever so slightly. "Of course. I love Giselle more than anything."

Ash nearly jumped six feet when Misty's hand gripped his shoulder, and gave him a shake. "Ash, go find Giselle Knocks—she works at a university, which means she's a teacher of some sort—that should be more than enough information."  
Ash's brows knit together. "Do you want me to bring her here?"

"Yes, bring her here."

"Are you still listening!?" Joe screamed, looking through the cracks, and Misty gave what Ash could only assume was a sigh of relief—if they moved quickly they could have this in the bag by quitting time. Ash nodded, and brushed Misty a thumbs up before running away.

"I'll be right back!"  
"Wait—where's he going?!" Joe screamed from the top of the bridge, though Ash had already cleared the barricade; he couldn't hear Misty's reply, but knew that it was just another way of getting this man to talk once again, rather than providing any real answers. She kept her head in high-stress situations, he gave her that much!

But right now! Now was _his_ time to shine! He was going to find this Giselle Knocks who worked at a university, and he was going to be deemed the hero—finally given the recognition that he deserved! As his legs pumped in a race against himself back to Misty's car—he froze upon seeing it, and hesitated.

Just...how, exactly was he supposed to find this woman, actually? His sprint slowed to a jog, then into an uncertain walk as he closed the distance to the small impala, and glanced back up at Joe, who hadn't moved since falling back. He had time, but not _a lot of time_ , if he wasn't fast, Misty might have even talked him down by his return—and _that_ simply couldn't happen.

So how was he supposed to find this Giselle Knocks? Misty left her phone and keys during her rush—maybe he could search for her? Ash pinched the bridge of his nose and opened the drivers side of her car and lingered for a moment. Already, he imagined Misty's glare of disapproval as she spit the words _you're a detective, nimrod, figure it out_ from those spitefully deceiving pink lips.

"I know where she lives."

The voice was unfamiliar, a pitch higher than he was used to, and as smooth as a whistle. Ash gazed through the open passenger door to see blue hair shading dark glasses. Long, easily waist length hair was tied up into a bun on top of her head, and she wore tight jogging pants with a pink sports-bra. Ash's face screwed up, she was clearly running prior to the incident. What looked like a music player was attached to her arm, and headphones dangled from her neck.

"What?" he asked, though the woman read his face wrong.

"I _said_ ," She smiled through perfectly painted lips that if Ash didn't know better, didn't look weather worn like most athletes—actually, she didn't even look tired, and last he checked there wasn't a trail on the bridge for- "I know where Giselle is."

Ash had a plethora of questions already: "Really? Why should I believe you?"

The blue-haired woman's face twitched, probably wondering how childish Ash could be with such a response—it sounded nothing like the trained officer he was—but if she expected more, she would be sorely disappointed.

"Because, honestly, we don't have a lot of time, do we?"  
"How did you know we were looking for Giselle?"

"Well...I heard, obviously. She's not that quiet—the red head." She gestured back to the escalating scene, and Ash saw that Joe had moved once again, and with a grimace, passively glanced at the intruder—though she had already slid into the car, and stared knowingly at Ash.

"...Just... just give me the address and phone number."

"No deal! I'm a package deal."

"This is technically withholding information that could effect the outcome of an ongoing case—that's _illegal_ you know." He scolded with a tone Misty might have been proud of, or laughing at. Personally, he thought he sounded a bit unsure of himself, and the woman seemed to think so as well, because she chuckled.

"Oh please, and you're going to throw me out? By the time you deal with all that paperwork and nonsense for withholding information he would have jumped already."

"Don't say that!"

"Then let's go!" The woman grinned throwing her arms up, and buckling herself in. Appalled, Ash put his hands up.

"How do I even know you're telling the truth?"

Her deep blue eyes rolled, with a brief _tsk_.

"Fine." The blue haired woman responded, sitting too comfortably in Misty's vehicle, as if she had already come accustom to the stiffing air and leather seats. Misty would have a heart attack if she knew a stranger was sitting in her car—actually, she might have a heart attack if she knew Ash was planning to _drive_ her car... how else did she expect him to find Giselle, then!?

"Here, it's dialing." She held her phone out for Ash, who snatched it from her without a second word, and listened to the dial tone turn to a voice mail.

"Hi! You've reached Giselle, if this is an emergency, call back; if not, leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can!" her voice was a song, mocking almost, and he wondered how a fragile man like Joe ever married someone so tone-defying. Without hesitation, but with a partially playful huff from the woman in the car beside him, he dialed the number once more.

"Hey, Dawn, what's going on?"  
"Dawn?" Ash repeated, then eyed the woman beside him, who had taken to picking at her nails. He muted a growl. "This isn't Dawn, I am detective Ash Ketchum. Is this Giselle Knocks that I'm speaking to?"  
A pause.

"Yes, this is Giselle Knocks. Did something happen?"

"No—well, not yet. When was the last time you spoke to your husband, Joe Knocks?"

Suddenly, the tone of defiance and superiority faded. "Just this morning. Is everything okay? What did he do this time?"

 _This time_? Ash asked himself, but remained focused. "There's a bit of an incident on Cycling Bridge, would it be possible to come get you?"

"I'm at the University of Kanto—when can you be here? I'm just heading out now."

Ash looked at Misty's speedometer, as well as the gear shift and recalled how quickly she was driving before. The University of Kanto was only a few minutes away, but they would have to detour through Celadon Bay to bypass the Cycling Bridge. His lips pursed.

"Ten minutes."

 **XOX**

Begrudgingly, Ash was traveling with Dawn along with him; who seemed pretty eager with the speed they were taking through Celadon Bay area. She had very valid points, Giselle would be more relaxed with a former classmate and friend around. Plus, she never hesitated to remind him that she did dues ex machina him with information that would have taken him a good hour to find. He had a dozen questions, but they could all be answered in a more appropriate situation.

Comfortable with the idea of taking a civilian with him, he was not comfortable driving Misty's car. By comparison, the speed, feel, and motion of the vehicle was more like the squad cars he drove, and less like the rusty-beaten truck he was familiar with. Not to mention an automatic transmission that didn't jerk every time he changed gears—more so that he didn't _have_ to change gears. While Dawn rattled off about the sights, he was currently weighing his options; settling quickly on: Misty never has to know. And, if she _did_ find out, she would understand since there were more pressing issues than the exterior of her car.

"Take the exit here, and turn left. It'll take you right to the front of campus."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." her voice was so sweet, as if she _hadn't_ just blackmailed him. Ash restrained any sarcastic commentary.

Zooming through the entrance, around a few cars that had parked along the right side to let him pass with his lights on, he swerved into the drop and loading section, but before he could put the car in part, a hand hit Dawn's window. Behind the window was a beautiful woman with deep, violet hair curled expertly around every natural curve. Her lips were a deep red and her eyes bright—but terrified.

"I saw it on the news—are you detective Ketchum?" Ash tried not to get hung up on the name.

"Yes, I am."

Who he could only assume was Giselle wasted no time letting herself into the back seat, passing a quick hello to Dawn without any questions. However, her bland, order for Ash to drive as quickly as possible in her superior tone almost made him want to drive slowly—she was lucky that someone's life was on the line!

"Oh, I knew he'd do something like this. He's always a martyr when things don't go his way..." She sighed dramatically in the back seat as Ash revved the engine around some parked cars, and found his way back to the freeway with as much skill as he could muster—popping a few curbs, probably scratching the fender. In the back seat, Giselle rambled on about Joe and his situation, while, if Ash was positive—he thought he saw Dawn scribbling something down.

"What are you doing?" He asked, swerving slightly and nearly taking out a van stopped at the side of the road. Nearly jumping out of their skin, the two woman scolded him before Giselle spoke up.

"Yeah, Dawn, why are you here? Are you a cop now, too?"

Ash couldn't see her face, save for his eyes on the road, but she sounded a bit nervous.

"Me? Oh, no. I was out for my usual jog and stumbled upon the scene... was just trying to help."

"Did you see Joe? Did he look okay?"

 _About as good as someone contemplating jumping from a fifty foot bridge could look_ Ash wanted to grumble, but kept the snide remark to himself—maybe he had been around Misty too long, and was already taking on her persona. He really needed to cool it, but something about Dawn tagging along unsettled him. Ash had to remind himself that this was his time to shine—no one else needed to know he had help.

"Hey—watch out!" Dawn yelped, pointing forward and bracing herself for the impact of the oncoming vehicle Ash only barely managed to skid by, taking a large chunk of paint off Misty's car, and the back of a _Kanto City News_ van. _Crap._ The breaks screeched and drew attention, but most people were too preoccupied to care.

"Oh...shit..." Ash swore, meanwhile, the women looked petrified, but not all for the same reason. Giselle was out of the car before Ash, and while he prayed Misty wouldn't notice the—he skipped out to see the damage—cracked headlight and bent fender...

"Honestly, who parks a new van this close to a scene?" Ash growled, hoping he parked in roughly the same place as she left it—as far as Misty had to know, Giselle arrived on her own... hopefully she wouldn't see the damage.

"Let me through!" Giselle screamed at Casey, who was trying to keep people within the barrier, and with a quick toss of his hand, he said a goodbye to Dawn.

"Thanks for the help! See you again!" Though, Dawn herself was still staring at the back of the van which was missing a taillight, and had a fresh dent behind the left tire.

Up ahead, he whisked Giselle through the barrier with a slight apology to Casey who was barely keeping her hat on, and walked with a confident stride to Misty who was still listening to Joe ramble about how he lost his job, and was rejected for his last year of school—Ash felt sorry for the man, he couldn't think of a time he ever felt so low. Beside him, Giselle was hysterical, or angry—he couldn't tell.

"Joe!" She shouted before Misty had a chance for introductions, she looked more frazzled than when Ash left. Her hair was not in the correct place, and her left eye had developed some kind of endless twitch that Ash could only assume was because of circling conversation.

"Is this Giselle?" She whispered to Ash, who nodded then they watched together as Misty muted her applause for arriving so quickly.

"G-Giselle? Is that you!?" he stammered, sinking into the metal of the bridge. Giselle walked forward in her pencil skirt, through she had no chance of catching him and yelled.

"What in the world are you doing up there! Come down from there this instant!"

"I can't! I'm not good enough for you anymore—I-I lost everything."

"Really? You can be so melodramatic sometimes! Last week with the bathtub and this week with a bridge! Come down from there now!"

Ash and Misty felt sweat run down the backs of their necks—this...wasn't exactly what they were expecting, and the expressions they shared read that notion.

"But I really screwed up this time! I didn't get accepted into school, so I yelled at my boss—and...and he fired me! How could I go home such a failure!"  
She exhaled a very long sigh. "You're not a failure! It's a minor set back—you submitted your application late, so what did you expect was going to happen!"

Misty's shoulders slumped, and she held her face while Ash stifled a laugh—it seemed so inappropriate, given how high the stakes were but...

"Now...come down here Joe, I'm making crepes for dinner tonight, and I don't want to eat them alone."

A long, and awkward pause followed, but no one spoke—most people were probably afraid to, stunned by their own disbelief.

"...A...are you sure you're not mad?"  
"I'm only going to be mad if you don't get down from there!"

"..." he looked around, his hair blowing in the wind. "I'm... I'm not sure that I can."

If it was possible for gravity to knock Ash and Misty off their feet, they would have hit the ground—though the vein popping on Misty's face was enough for Ash to know that this was... not the usual go around.

"Nothing was really resolved, was it?" Ash whispered, but Misty didn't respond.

"Get me an extraction team!" she shouted instead.

"We are the extraction team!" Casey shouted back, cupping her hands to her face. Misty visibly slumped and looked up again—only then did Ash see the scowl and flinch—he was too eager to offer.

"I'll do it."

Surprise ran over her face. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, this is no problem—it's not like kicking down doors but I'm a good climber."

Misty was clearly unsure of his confidence. "...I think we should wait for some kind of ladder or..."

"No, it's alright, they have the safety cords, since we know he isn't going to jump—it'll be easy."

Gritting her teeth, Misty looked up at the ten-foot drop, then back down to Ash's confident expression, then to Giselle who was watching the two of them with bright eyes... and finally Misty cracked and gave the signal.

"Don't screw up." she sighed, while Ash pumped a fist and approached the bungee team.

"Don't worry, Mist. I got this!"

Had he been looking, her eyes snapped wide at the nickname, and her face softened only slightly into a smile.

With assurance and vigor, her approached the line that the team had set up quickly, and strapped himself to the cord. Giselle met him at the starting point and whined.

"Be careful."

"Thanks, I will!"

Around him, with the wind at his back, he heard the distant sound of gasps and excitement, and Ash climbed the pylons with little effort, through the cross-crossed metallic features, until he was standing teen feet up, with Joe, and the rest of the world at his feet—it was honestly an amazing view; he could practically see the entire city from here. He wondered if there were camera's rolling, more importantly, if his mom would see this; her son finally realizing his dream profession, and embracing what it was. For a moment, he lost himself the wisp of the wind, until Joe snapped him out of it.

"You're here to help me down?"

"Yeah, it'll take a minute, but we'll manage; are you a decent climber?"

"Not really... it took all morning to get up here."

"Then hold on tight." Ash grinned, hooking the extra belt around Joe's waist, and clasping themselves together, that way if they fell, their fall would break by the cords. It was something like a safety net, without the net.

This moment, it was one Ash never wanted to forget. The feel of wind against his face, and hope in his chest—this was what it felt like to be a cop. Saving someone's life, no matter how small the situation was. Grinning, he moved along the rafters.

Briefly, Ash looked down and while the sight nearly caused Joe to freak out and reconsider, Ash thought, in the distance, he saw the slightest glimmer of pride in Misty's cerulean eyes, and maybe a smile. Then again, it was really high up here, and he-Ash looked away quickly, ignoring the flutter in his chest-he was probably imagining it.

 **XOX**

Even though it took Ash only a handful of minutes to climb, they took a leisure twenty to climb down. Ash had to literally assist Joe with every step, not because the man wasn't trying, but because in the art of climbing down—things were a bit more complex. Safely on the ground, and away from the harness and strings, however, Giselle and Joe met in the center of the bridge, and in a dramatic display of affection and camera lights, they fell to their knees hugging.

Ash smiled at the scene as Misty approached, and gently punched him in the shoulder whilst tilting her head at them.

"Good job, the way down was a little clunky, but you made it."

Ash rolled his eyes, removing the belt around his groin and waist, then stuck his tongue out at Misty.

"You're jealous you didn't get to go."

"I would have, but someone knocked me through a door earlier."

Ash's face flushed, though her anger seemed completely gone by this point—replaced by some formal version of admiration—maybe she would even provide him with a compliment he was so desperately not interested in. Because he didn't need her approval...or anything.

Then again, it never came, instead, she looked at Giselle and Joe as they were taken in by Casey and the rest of the team to talk with at the station. The moment Giselle and Joe entered the squad car, a roar of applause nearly deafened him and Misty sighed, but he saw the proud grin on her lips.

"It's a good day to be a cop, huh?"

"It really is!" Ash grinned, turning back to the impala—as if their work day wasn't over. "but I'm starved—you're buying dinner, right?"

"What?! No way, I paid for lunch!"

 **XOX**

It was really a shame Misty's light heart couldn't last the rest of the day; the moment they arrived at the fast-food joint, Misty felt her soul die at the damage done to her car by a news van that was no longer parked at the bridge when they approached the vehicle. Ash was lucky he found someone to blame it on, otherwise, it might have been his head she threw against the ground instead of a foam cup.

"Who would back into my car!"

Ash, still licking his fingers from dinner, sucked on his teeth. "...You never know these days."

"I swear, some people don't pay attention to where they're going!"

"...he... yeah..." Ash scratched his face nervously.

"...You...Didn't drive my car, did you?" Misty deduced, unable to look at him. Ash felt the cold hand of death run down his back.

"No, of course not. I sat in it for a minute to find Giselle..." _He lied_ , oh, why did he lie? Lying was only going to make matters worse! However, shortly after the _no_ Misty returned to groaning over the damages, less about who committed them. For now, he was safe.

"Well, whatever, let's just get to the hospital to pick up the rest of those tapes."

Once inside of the car again, Ash noticed that a scent of strawberries and coconut fluttered from his seat once again, and hoped that Misty wouldn't notice—but she did. Whoever this _Dawn_ girl was, she sure caused Ash a lot of problems. Especially when Misty started in on the 'foreign scent'.

"I should have gotten that dash-cam installed when they offered—I knew it! Someone must have been in my car after we left; look they even read the messages on my phone." Misty held her phone up to Ash, who believed now, she was being a little obsessive.

"I bet it was one of those stupid reporters. They're always putting their noses where they aren't legally allowed."  
"Misty—I'm sure it was an accident. You might have accidentally read those messages before, right?"  
"No!" She yelped, and Ash sunk back in his chair.

"I swear, whoever did this better pray I never find out."

Ash swallowed very nervously, and put his hands guiltily on his lap as Misty continued her vent from the burger joint, back to the hospital. Yet, all he could imagine now, was how that rage would soon be fixated on him. Once again, he remembered how easily she busted open the doors; and couldn't help but imagine the door as his head.

 _Great_.

Desperate to change the conversation, he cleared his throat.

"So...so why are we going back to the hospital?"

"Because they pulled up the rest of the tapes—the construction crew had a few cameras in their temporary buildings that might have a better image of that man who fled the scene."

For once, the cool nature of her police-voice calmed him.

"Do you think it'll help?"

"It can't hurt," She huffed, changing lanes so that she could turn into the visitors paid parking lot. "after all, the more evidence to prove this wasn't simply an accident, the better."

"...and...and if it is brushed off as an accident, what then?"

The vehicle came to a stop in the loading zone, and she pursed her lips, watching him intently. Ash couldn't make eye contact, the idea that whatever happened to Bianca being written off made him sick. Someone was following her, and whoever it was, got her killed. They couldn't ignore that—his conscious would not let him, even if they couldn't find any clues! He just _knew_.

"Then we move on, and try to help someone else before they end up in her shoes." Misty pat him on the shoulder briefly, then stepped out of her car without another word.

That...didn't seem fair.

As quietly as possible, Ash followed her up the stairs, and through the doors he was unfamiliar with. He rarely spent time at the hospital, but Misty seemed to know her way around quickly with turns down hallways he didn't think were labeled, until they were shifting through one that read "staff only". She flashed a wave, not her badge, at the man sitting at the main security desk, then stopped.

"You made it here quickly. We weren't expecting you for another hour, at least." He approached her, his brown hair neatly gelled back. "If you come with me, we can get the footage for you."

He gestured with his hand to the actual camera room, and Misty nodded.

"Alright, thanks." Misty paused before following, holding her hand out to stop Ash. "Why don't you have a second look around the hospital?"

"What?" he gasped, "Why?" He scowled and Misty's head titled, then she leaned in closer.

"Because, if anyone suspicious showed up to check for the evidence himself, it might be good to have a set of eyes on the floor."

Ash couldn't argue with that, but a part of him felt like she only wanted to be alone with the security guard, who he noticed immediately wore the name tag 'Danny'. He partially wanted to call her unbelievable, but stranger things had happened.

"Fine, but how am I supposed to know what he looks like?"

"Suspicious persons. And maybe go and ask the staff who was on that night if they saw anything." Misty explained, then pat him on the shoulder before disappearing into the camera room, leaving a scowling Ash with his hands in his pockets. _Perfect..._

The laughter that followed from the closed door only made him feel worse once he started his walk back to the primary floor of the hospital. Last time, Misty watched what they had of the footage herself, probably while the rest of the team mocked Ash for his inability to act during the first incident. Everyone was stronger than he was!

Rolling his eyes, he put the thought of his mind that Misty would be petty enough to make jokes about him; she was occasionally hard on him, but never heartless. They both didn't need to grab the footage, but he sure felt out of the look.

"Well if it isn't our local super-hero."

Having spent a good part of his afternoon with the woman, Ash knew the voice immediately, he had barely re-entered the hospital when he saw Dawn walking to the exit with a small purse over her shoulder and a slight wave. She wore more professional clothes now, well, aside from the short-skirt and knee-high socks.

"What are you doing here, Dawn?" Ash asked nicely.

"Oh, you know, visiting some friends—Giselle and Joe were both taken here after the bridge thing. You know, just for precautions."

"Oh, yeah, I wouldn't know about that kind of stuff."

"I suppose not—being a detective means you don't do all the grunt work anymore?"

"Of course! I've worked hard to get away from that stuff." He said proudly, building up his own ego. Dawn shook her head with a slight smile.

"How are they? Did Joe settle down finally?"

Dawn's face scrunched up, "Yeah, but he's still pretty upset about what happened. He feels like all of his dreams were forced on hold..."

"Yeah... I know that feeling." Ash grimaced, looking into the direction that she came, her brows quirked.

"Really? How so?" She asked, but Ash brushed her off with a grin and wave of his hand.

"Misty's just a lot to work with—she's a bit controlling and occasionally scary—plus, being a cop in general. Honestly, I didn't think this is what it would feel like to be a detective."  
Dawn crossed her arms, and leaned slightly against a wall to better assess the situation. "So you've only been a detective a short time?"

"Three weeks, barely, and we can't even finish a case. Sometimes I feel like I should have just stayed on the desk-" He stopped, scrunching his nose and laughing awkwardly. "But I don't know why I'm telling you this! It's not your problem, don't worry about it."  
"No, that's good—you seem sincerely concerned about doing a good job—that's wonderful, the staff say that you handled that case with the patient missing from here really well..."

"You know about Bianca?" Ash snapped, startled himself. No one was supposed to officially know about her yet-

"Bianca? Well... they didn't give names, but they did say a woman...had an accident."

"It wasn't an accident," Ash scoffed, folding his arms and looking off into the hallway that seemed more sad than it was yesterday. "It was stupidity and..." He inhaled.

"I really shouldn't talk about it."

Surprised, Dawn found herself blinking several times as Ash looked off into another direction then licked his lips.

"Thanks for the help earlier today, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you." He complimented her, in his best attempt to change the subject. Dawn smiled that pretty, pink-lipped smile again.

"No problem, I just wanna help, you know?" She stepped closer to him, and nudged his shoulder. "It sucks that we keep hearing about all these bodies, and never have any answers, you know?"

"You're telling me... I guess that's life sometimes though—there aren't always easy answers, that's why... Well, actually if you ever have any problems, why don't you bring them to the police station? You could be a really good cop if you wanted, I'm sure."

A twinkle formed her eye. "You think so? Well, here—let me leave you my name and number, and maybe we can work together another time?"

She winked, or at least Ash thought that she did. Quickly, she scribbled her name out on the notepad that he thought he recognized from earlier, and then ripped the paper and handed it back to him. Briefly, their fingers touched and Ash felt electricity cut through him, gripping the note into a ball in his hand.

"So...I know I'm not supposed to ask...but you said this might not have been an accident...and I have to know—it's not something to do with those...murders, is it?"

"You mean the TF murders?" Ash exclaimed, snapping from his petty stupor. "I'm not sure, honestly. The case has been pretty secretive, even with the police station—we really don't have a lot to go off of, and I don't want to spread false information."

"Oh... I see." her eyes drifted, "Well, anyways, I hope you find out what happened to Bianca—but I have to get home." She waved at him, and brushed past him leaving behind the smell of fruits, like she did in Misty's car.

"We should do coffee sometime!" She giggled, then once her back was turned she added, "And tell Misty that I said hi!"

His face was hot when he finally turned back to the number in his hand, and then drained of color when he realized that Dawn knew who Misty was. Panicked, he tried to ask her what she meant, but she was long gone, and Misty was around the corner with a frown, and her face stoic.

"Hey—" She interjected, looking between him and the exit doors. Before he could answer, she added. "Bad news, some of the footage was lost because of maintenance—good news is... hey, are you listening?"

"Yes, yes, that's great-" he looked at her finally, watching her expression. "Wait, what? Lost? How can it be lost?"

Her shoulders raised then fell.

"They said they ran maintenance that night on part of the northern wing, we're only missing two or three video feeds, but we got the ones from the construction site." She slipped the USB drives she was given into her pocket and then nudged the direction of the door, where Ash's eyes returned.

"What, did a pretty girl finally hit on you or something?"

"What—no!" Ash gasped, throwing up his arms. Misty rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, Ketchum, get your head in the game."

"...Yeah, but my head is tired..." Ash laughed exhaustively, though his tone playful.

 **XOX**

By the time that Ash and Misty returned to the station, it was a quarter to seven, and evening shift had already taken over. They turned in the little evidence they found, and wrote it into the slow building case file, and recorded the information about the _jumper_. Ash neglected to mention information about Dawn, in fear of what Jenny would say to him about getting civilians involved, and considered himself safe so long as Dawn didn't say anything.

Somehow, he had a swelling feeling in his chest that she wouldn't. Misty signed her portion of the form, they sent it off to Casey's basket to be signed in the morning, and then slipped away into the evidence room to review the tapes in a proper, authorized computer.

At the desk, Ash took a seat in the spinning black chair beside hers, and rested his elbows on the desk to relax as they re-watched the tapes together for the second time. The four new angles offered them exactly what they already knew. Bianca fell down on her own accord, and the guy in the black hood tried to help her walk, only to realize she had already succumbed to her injuries, and ran for it.

Other than confirming their suspicions, they were at a dead end. Then, Misty replayed the tapes for a third time—glaring at it and urging it to tell them something different.

Manslaughter or not, without a suspect, they only had a cold case, and empty evidence.

"I don't think we're going to find anything."

"We have a better description of the suspect."

"Yes, you're right. About 5'11, wearing a dark hoodie, slim." Misty looked Ash up and down. "Could even be you."

Ash rolled his eyes and sighed. "That's not the point, we can't let him just get away with-" Ash slammed his hand forward, knocking Misty's out of the way when he paused the video seconds before their perpetrator panicked and dropped Bianca.

"He sees someone, right there." Ash pointed to the blurry pixels, barely able to see his head jerk to one side. Without speaking, Misty sat back in her chair, swiveled to the case file they pulled a minute ago, and removed the USB drive with the hospital's prior recordings. She plugged it into another slot, then followed the prompts to open the three selected videos of the incident, and watched.

"Look!" Ash shouted, startling Misty. "Look at the ground right there, Mist! Do you see that!"

"Yeah...it looks like a shadow."

Nearly knocking over his chair as he sat up to proclaim his excitement, he shook her shoulder and pointed.

"There was another person right before we arrived—see, here we are. We came from the south, he was there from the north—who ever our perp is, saw this person and ran for it!" by correlation, the movements all aligned with the idea and Misty inched closer and closer to the screen to be certain.

Eventually, her eyes widened, sparkled. "Do you think it was the person Bianca was running from?"

"I don't know—it could have been!" Ash took the mouse from her and maneuvered his way to the rest of the video recordings. "Let's review the rest of the tapes from the hospital to see if we can find a guy who entered from the North wing before we got there."

And so they waited, taking turns looking over the dozen videos, waiting for anyone suspicious to step outside. Instead, they found lazy hospital staff, and a man eating donuts at a bench for forty-five minutes. Nothing crazy, no one suspicious, and nothing to verify that anyone was there.

"There's someone there...I know it." Ash whined, leaning on the desk while Misty leaned backwards. It was already half past nine, and their attempts were amounting to nothing.

"Listen, it doesn't matter how many times we watch the tapes—we can't see anything else. We should just...pack up and try again tomorrow."

Ash made a low sound of dismay and stared tiredly at Misty.

"...Sorry." She sounded sincere for the first time. "Sometimes cases don't go the way you expect them to."

"It's just not fair...you know?"

He sounded like such a child, an innocent, unaware child. A wide, forgiving smile spread over her lips.

"I know, but that's just how it goes sometimes—now why don't you go home and get some sleep? It's been a busy day, and it'll be even busier tomorrow."

Frowning, Ash stretched his arms out.

"Yeah, I guess so." He yawned again. "Mom probably made dinner again and was expecting me home..."

Misty blinked a few times. "Oh?"

"Yeah, she makes the best dinners—you should really try it sometime-!"

Before the sentence ended Ash pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Misty, wishing to retract the statement that clearly alarmed her as much as it did him.

"Actually, I think I'll go first..." She forced out, confused.

Ash was on his feet and heading for the door in a flash.

"Yeah, okay—anyways, see you tomorrow!" he escaped through the evidence room door, and through the front entrance without so much as breathing, before those green eyes could see into his soul.

 **XOX**

His truck was loud, and his body stiff. How was it that he found himself like this? Misty was being _nice_ , rational—fair, except for the times he screwed up, she treated him mostly like a real partner. She even let him steal the show at the bridge, and didn't mock him _much_ for his inability to kick in doors. He made a mental note to practice before their next investigation train, so he could be the one showing her up.

Actually, he made a very long mental list of actions to improve on today—such as reading maps, and staying calm—and not over reacting. He winced, finally feeling the repercussions of falling through a door by the strange, unfamiliar kink in his neck. He could hardly imagine the bruises Misty had if his own body ached—well, either from that, or the climbing. He used muscles he had practically forgotten about today, and strained his mind as much as his body.

Ash was _tired_. Not to mention the weird fluttering in his chest that followed a strange need to impress Misty. Where did _that_ come from? He didn't need to impress her, she was the enemy that he needed to show up—not seek approval from. Yet, he still felt like if she would say _good job_ the hell she put him through the last few weeks would have been worth it.

Then there was the fear of losing this case; Ash couldn't let that happen. Bianca was an innocent girl ruined by drugs, and found herself in a certain circumstance—not to mention the fear of being followed—was the man who tried to get her out of the hospital her friend, or something worse...? His guts hurt thinking about it, and his head felt light and fuzzy.

In the end, he had to focus on what he _did_ accomplish today. He saved Joe Knocks, and found some more evidence that could help put Bianca's friend... _or enemy_ behind bars.

Man, why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn't he have simple jobs like they showed on television—or like how his dad used to explain them! Find the bad guy, complete a drug bust, save a girl—anything but the worn out feeling he had in his chest right now.

Misty warned him that being a cop wasn't all car chases and explosions—but she didn't say it played emotional warfare. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Bianca's limp body in the water, and re-watching those tapes was brutal. Ash felt scarred and broken, and quietly... maybe... maybe he thought that he wasn't cut out for the harsher side of police work—as a traffic cop, the worst he had seen was road kill.

"Hey!" The elated voice that pulled him from his thoughts belonged to none other than May Maple, who burst through the front door of his house with Pikachu at her side, waving her arms.

"What are you doing sitting in your truck, get in here you TV hero!"

Immediately, his face turned bright red at her statement, having realized that he dazed off with his truck running, and the lights still on. Turning off the engine, he hopped out and wiped his nose as May's strong arm wrapped around his neck, and the opposite arm found his upper shoulder with a light tap.

"We saw what you did today, climbing that stinkin' bridge—it was all over the news! You stud, you!"

A hearty laugh erupted from his stomach as Pikachu nudged his knees.

"We thought you'd be home sooner, so we started the party a little early, but Brock's inside too, and your mom made the best chicken fingers—hey do you think you'll be in the news often? How do you think I would be as a news anchor?"

"Oh, man." Ash chuckled. "Selling city tours didn't work out?"

"Turns out there aren't enough tourist that come to Kanto City." Effortlessly, she directed him into his home, where the joyful voices of his mother, Delia, and best friend Brock filled his ears, and all the worries on his shoulders lifted, as well as the tension.

"My hero!" Delia shouted across the house, jogging to jerk Ash into a tight hug. She spun once, then twice, and then set him down in giggles. "I have to say, the camera usually adds ten pounds, but you look like a super hero! I recorded the rerun at nine—do you want to watch it?"

"Oh, mom..." Ash grunted, his face beet red. "That's a little much, don't you think? I mean... it wasn't even that big of a deal, I hardly did anything but..."

"Nonsense! You saved his life!"

"I mean—I _helped_ , but Misty was there too, and-"

"Give yourself some credit! You have to enjoy the little moments, dear! C'mon, I made you cake-pops."

Even though in his heart, he knew they were over-reacting, and it was only his timing that allotted him the ability to have this sort of reaction from his friends, he felt so warm inside. A heavy fire that slowly melted away the agony he felt earlier; without thinking much of it, he wrapped an arm around Brock's neck, and May's and grinned as he brought them both to his level when they entered the living room together.

"Thank you."

 **XOX**

Ash was not entirely incompetent, he was very lucky. He knew that the majority of his success came from his instincts, but in time, he knew he would develop his own skills as well. Ash had to believe that more than anyone. He would hone them into an art of a great detective, and help spin Kanto City back into a ways of success and safety. If he could focus on the positive parts of his job, and never give up on the cases going in the right direction—he would become the greatest detective.

That's why when he arrived early that morning, he barely missed the passing, angry glances of his coworkers. The silence from Ritchie and Casey who literally turned away from him, or the clearing off the coffee station where he passed every morning to get to the detectives unit. Thinking of the Bianca case and how he would return to the hospital to question the witnesses again, he didn't hear the mumbled whispers of his comrades, until he was knee deep in the detectives unit, pulling on the stupid tie his mom forced him to wear that morning. He hated the choking object, and the very moment his rear-end touched his chair, it was off and tossed onto his desk so he could properly assess the damages left from the night shift...

What he found instead of case files, however were written notes:

 _You suck, Ketchum_.

 _Way to go, asshole!_

"What in the...?" Ash muttered, pulling out the papers one by one, and finding one that was slimy with fruit jam.

"Seriously?" He groaned, emptying his entire inbox into the garbage, watching as a dozen or more little notes fell out. What had he done to earn himself this amount of hate?

Whether he wanted the answer or not, a disheveled, heeled Misty stepped through the detectives unit doors, with a wad of papers rolled under her arm and an unbelievable look of hatred he thought he would never see again—worst of all, it was directed at him.

"...Morn...morning, Misty..." he muttered only to be rudely interrupted by the papers being slammed onto his desk; the title rippling a heavy shock through his entire system.

 _"Kanto City Police: Nothing but a big joke, according to Detective Ash Ketchum"_

...oh, no...

 **Author's Note:**

I changed so much on this story. For the anon that asked when I was going to update, here it is.

Originally, this was a chapter about May, then about Brock, then about Ash; then about Dawn—and then it just turned into a chapter about what Ash's expectations are, and what the realities of his job, his personal failures, and wants to blame it on other people. From here, things start to get a bit more crazy, with more characters being introduced.

At first, I was going to have this focused on only -one- case, the TF murders, and how that worked into things, but I've decided on having that be the overlying plot, because detectives aren't just given one case at a time, usually; they have many active at a given time, with things that take priority, and things that happen out of the blue. (I MADE A REFERENCE TO SCHOOL OF HARD KNOCKS, OKAY?!) Plus I found the story getting really dark, and while this is def. Have a grunge feeling to it, I don't want it to be like the drama-crime shows on tv.

So...if you have anymore questions, lemme know?

NINT


	8. Chapter 8: Reporters

**So You Want to Be a Cop, Chapter 8**

At first, he thought he was mistaken, that her rage was nothing more than a mood swing, after all, they had been on good terms not even twenty-four hours ago, right?

"Good job, Ketchum!" She yelped, swatting the papers onto the table for him to read. They were print outs of an article posted online via the Kanto City News, and on the front cover was a picture of Ash, and a photo shopped background of several different key points about the article, one of which included a high-lighted part from Misty.

" _B_ _orrowed_ another police officer's vehicle and damaged private property as any misguided detective would. He believed himself above the law-" Ash pushed the article away from himself, feeling deathly ill as it continued citing Ash had used civilian knowledge, and that was only the tip of the iceberg before it delved into lack of information from the police force about the ongoing TF investigation, and a stagnant missing persons case from the hospital.

Misty smacked her lips, reading the parts Ash couldn't finish: "Writer _Hikari_ stated that the city wasn't safe a year ago, and seems worse now under the care of former delinquent and brainless amateur providing _outstanding_ (I meant that sarcastically) detective work. He had very few compliments about his co-workers, citing his partner, Misty Waterflower, as bi-polar and heartless."

He grabbed the paper from her in hopes that _maybe_ she hadn't read it all, he could barely listen to it himself.

"What in the world were you thinking!?" she screamed so loud he thought that he could have heard a pen fall—and worst of all, she had every right to that anger.

However, he didn't have an answer for her, instead his mouth opened, then closed.

"I..."

"You weren't! Just say it, you weren't thinking! You don't ever think before you act!" she had been angry with him a lot—but never so much that she was actually screaming—to the point he sat down and the only voice filling the void of silence was her shouts. He was most certain the rest of the police force could hear, and didn't doubt that they were also angry about his accusations.

"I didn't say all of that—it was taken out of context and-"

"How do I make this _clear_ to you? Out of context or not, you don't _talk_ about work with _anyone_ but your coworkers! I don't care if it's your dead father rising from the grave, if he doesn't work with us, he doesn't get information, do I make myself clear!?"

"Detective Waterflower!" the chief's voice cut into her shout, disrupting the sinister glare that stunned Ash in his seat. "That's enough!"

Worn nails dug into the wooden desk as Misty turned her head to see the blue-haired chief. A part of her knew she had gone too far with her last statement—but Ash knew that he hit a sore spot with the red-head, given her previous relationship with her old, rule-breaking, drug-mongering, former partner who started the downhill ordeal they were now experiencing the repercussions of.

"...S...sorry..." Ash muttered as the chief approached Misty, with actual concern for Ash's safety in her eyes.

"Come with me to my office." She grabbed Misty's upper arm, to which the latter shrugged her off, and stomped out of the room, leaving Ash alone once again, with his thoughts.

Regardless of the empty room, he felt all eyes were on him, and dared himself to finally glance over the paper once more.

Hikari must have been Dawn's pen name—she was a reporter. Ash felt his entire body turn concave. Of course, he should have known better. Dawn was overly friendly, and gave him weird vibes from the moment he saw her. She wasn't at the hospital visiting a friend, and she left before Misty could appear because she _knew_ that Misty would know...

Man...

How stupid could he be?

Without thinking, as he had a million times during high school, Ash put his head down onto his desk, and exhaled so loudly, his entire body felt it. How in the world was he going to fix this?

 **XOX**

Ash could best describe his next few emotions as _sulking_ while he was filing out the last of his standing reports. He really didn't have much to do right now; the TF murder case was off-limits, probably permanently now, and his brain was too preoccupied with that disappointed, hateful gaze from Misty this morning.

He didn't actually call her bi-polar and heartless, did he? Ash huffed again, mostly pretending to type as to not draw attention from Paul who was waiting for Gary to return from a single investigation. Ash was back at the desk doing paperwork, and Gary was already out on his own—that was _just_ his luck, wasn't it? Two steps forward and six-hundred steps backwards. At this point, he might as well turn in his badge and restart at the academy.

Or bury himself in a hole and have the world forget about him.

Part of him wanted to call May or Brock and ask what he was supposed to do; but this was far out of either of their control. Instead, he picked through the article, and high-lighted every piece that was inaccurate; namely, every piece that 'Hikari' wrote about Bianca's case. The only part she had right was that she fell from a window, the rest was clearly skewed information presented by the hospital staff as over-exaggerations.

Dawn probably knew that, she just didn't care—the same way she clearly didn't care that she was ruining the thin threads of Ash's career. He was already missing a viable amount of credibility, he didn't need to lose anymore.

It was the alias that got him: Hikari. He saw her on the news sometimes—only, her hair was black, not blue, and she looked much angrier. It must have been a whole pen name disguise. Honestly, he felt so stupid.

Quietly, his head rose and he leaned heavily on his hand, and stared at the man who was now standing only a few feet away. Paul held a cup of steaming coffee, watching Ash.

"Uhh... what's up?"

Without speaking, Paul placed a form in front of Ash then skulked off. Basically a police disclosure form that could request the article that was written by Hikari to be removed. Ash blinked several times, staring at Paul's back as he ventured back to his desk. His brow furrowed.

"..Thanks?"

"Don't thank me. It was your fault that she printed incomplete information to begin with. Since it pertains to an active case _and_ technical slander, you can ask to have it removed from the website—but the damage is already there." Paul sipped his drink as he sat down, watching Ash with stoic eyes and the young detective realized it wasn't Paul being generous, he was being insincere.

"...Sorry." Ash grumbled, looking over the paper and grabbing a pen. Regardless of Paul's jab, Ash would still take this opportunity to fix his mistakes; even if that meant having to go back on the things that he said.

The least he could do was try.

 **XOX**

Ash had submitted the document and sent it off to the email that was posted on the Kanto City News profile for Hikari. The worst that could happen was that he would make an ever bigger fool of himself, but at least he was trying to fix his mistakes.

Right when he clicked send, Misty flew through the detective unit's doors, and Ash felt a cold sweat trickle down his back as he tried to keep eye contact with his computer monitor. He couldn't bare to look at her right now, not if her eyes were like before: Angry and full of disappointment.

However, he wouldn't get a safe passage, because she approached him with her angry expression, and stood before him with her arms tightly crossed and a resting face of frustration.

"Morgue." She ordered, then turned and left without waiting.

Ash sighed, collecting what was left of his dignity, and followed after her, trying not to drag his feet.

Great, they've gone back to communicating with one word. To think he was making progress!

Biting his tongue, he followed her down the steps, through the lobby, and into the hallway leading to the basement. The KCPD still had some rough edges from when it was first built, and the tiny steps leading into the basement were one of them. Typically, they would have used an elevator, but Misty was too hyped to use one. She needed to walk off her frustration and so long as she directed her rage to walking, Ash wouldn't complain.

Metal swinging doors marked the end of their walk, Ash saw the police station's medical examiner's office just down the hall from where they stored the dead bodies. Ash hated this room. A piece of the past held onto by their peers. Most police precincts' morgues were placed in hospitals now, and very few actually still had an active medical examiner on police grounds. Technically, the part of the police station containing the morgue was also part of the Forensics Laboratory which is how the KCPD could justify holding onto their own coroners office—that didn't make it any less disturbing. Rather than waiting to hear back from the hospital's medical examiner and pathologist, they had on-cite scientists that did the dirty work.

Sometimes, when Ash thought too much about it, he shuddered at the idea that only a few feet below him were the stashed bodies of murder victims and unclaimed bodies.

Seemingly used to the horrific and cold feel of the basement, Misty gloved up with latex gloves stashed in a box beside the door, and pushed through without Ash. He followed quietly, and also pulled on a set of the purple gloves.

When the door creaked shut, it was just the three of them.

Misty, Ash, and Bianca's body. Bill, the usual mortician, wasn't around. Ash might have asked, but when Misty picked up the clipboard, he assumed it was because he had other cases to attend to, and Misty was more than capable of reading what was on the papers.

However, when she removed the white sheet that covered the body, Ash jumped backwards, and covered his mouth.

"Oh _god_." he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut.

Despite Misty covering Bianca's body again, the damage had been done. Pale and still. She looked ice-cold and somehow blue all at the same time. Her eyes were gaunt. The color of her hair was washed out into parts of its original blonde, and strands of black. Where her body was bruised from her fall, and the head-injury that did her in were the most lingering images, however. Since she died so quickly, the skin had no reason to absorb the blood and she looked...

She looked so... hollow.

"You okay?" Misty asked, perhaps she was a little concerned, but it was her voice that drew him back in. He swallowed hard. This couldn't be worse than when Misty fished her out of the water. At least now she was at peace.

Ash rubbed his chin with the bare part of his wrist, then when he didn't answer, Misty tugged the cloth away again, and he tried to stop himself from hurling, though his stomach clenched angrily at him.

When she showed Ash the injury points that indicated that the fall was an accident, he was hardly listening or paying attention. He tried to follow along, but he couldn't get her last living image out of his head. She was so sick when they found her... she needed help and he failed her.

Misty covered the body up again when she realized Ash was having a moment.

"You need to breathe before you pass out." Misty instructed.

 _Oh yeah_. He had lungs, the air was stagnant though, and his stomach lurched once more when he shook his head. Whether or not she was mad at him, she still lead him away, to the sink where the beakers lived, and turned away from the body. She set the clipboard down, and then held up a few objects for him.

"Traces of the drug we found in that cabin were found in her system."

Inside one of the plastic bags was a half-eroded... _condom_? Ash looked at Misty who set the package down. There wasn't one—but multiple bags. All of the same things.

"We couldn't find any injection marks, but Bill did find a number of internal scarring of the stomach and intestinal lining. More than likely, one of these got stuck and burst. There's no telling how much, though."

Ash tried to get a hold of himself, the world was spinning. "So she was a...she.."

"Was used for drug trafficking, quite possibly." Misty finished quietly while looking over the toxicology report once more.

"The drug, which was never given a formal name, is a combination of lysergic acid diethylamide and cocaine. It's street name was puff for awhile. It's the drug that Red was funneling through the police station."

Ash's breath hitched in his throat. Did _Red_ have something to do with this?

"We'll turn over what we found to Jenny. The footage from the tapes, the information we gathered from the notebook and those addresses-as well as this report and we will see if she will green-light a complete investigation."

Ash looked up at Misty, eyes full of concern. "It doesn't sound like you think that she will..."

"I think that she will see that Bianca's death was an accident, and she was involved in unfortunate circumstances that ended her life early."

"She probably didn't _choose_ this though!"

"Unfortunately, we can't verify that, and with the TF murderer still out there, it's not likely she's going to send us on any wild goose chases."  
"You're already giving up?"

Misty opened her mouth, titled her head to one side, not understanding how Ash was dumbfounded by her advice.

"I'm not giving up, but I think you shouldn't get so personally invested. It's not good for you or the case." As she said this, she ripped off her gloves, taking a copy of the report for herself and Jenny, and disappeared behind the swinging, metal doors.

Unable to leave, Ash lingered, looking at the report himself, and then finally peeled off his gloves in defeat.

This wasn't fair. _Any of it._

 **XOX**

The only real hope that they had now, was being able to pull up as much information about Bianca's life as possible in the next twenty-four hours. She may have been in drug trafficking, and if they could prove that the man involved in her attempted escape was also involved in her scheme, they could begin a full blown investigation.

However, Misty warned Ash about investigations that relied on threads instead of chains. There was a strong chance, that unless they could somehow find extra footage of this man; they could be working on an endless cold case for years.

Sometimes, they had to focus on the more easily solvable cases, and not the ones that mattered the most to them.

Ash didn't care about the guy that robbed the jewelry store, or the man who was caught stealing televisions from electronic stores. He wanted to help innocent people that got pushed into situations they didn't belong in. That included finding the person—possibly the dealer—that was following Bianca. Ash made note of it on his desk, making sure to write out a list of suspects and places to check before Jenny completely shut him down.

Seeing her face so withered and broken.

Ash would never sleep again.

For the later part of the morning, Ash was as quiet as a mouse, looking up information on Bianca again; up until a few years ago, she was a totally normal person. Normal life, active social media. Then she dropped off the face of the earth, and _here she was again_. A stranger in a diner; another obituary for estranged parents some place far away; parents that still hadn't called.

With noon around the corner, typically, he and Misty ate lunch together, but given their spar this morning; she left ten minutes before him, and hadn't spoken to him since the morgue.

That was fine, he wasn't really in the mood for talking until the detective's unit was desolate, and so quiet he could hear the echo of his own thoughts.

 _Don't get personally involved_. He tried to recall his dad's voice, but it was much further now than ever before. Sitting at his desk, twiddling his thumbs was going to do him no good, so instead, he removed the packed lunch he brought with him everyday and got up from his desk.

Casey and Ritchie would certainly have stories to share that would cheer him up.

Trying his best not to drag his feet, Ash felt immediately better once out of the dark room. They needed windows in that unit or he was going to die from the doom and gloom—he needed to stay battle ready, just in case a miracle happened. Ash had to be on his toes, which meant lying, and telling himself that he was perfectly fine, even when he was not. Keep on pushing on! Head above water!

He had to pump himself up, but he managed!

The lime-green lunch room hadn't changed at all in his absence, only the posters on the tack board and people sitting around. Tracey was reading a book in the corner—he also shared the noon-hour lunch block, but he seemed completely disinterested in Ash's entrance. The other two officers present however, couldn't be more pleased to see him.

"Our favorite detective, Ketchum!" Ritchie shouted, eagerly throwing up his arms. Modestly, Ash offered a slight wave, and then politely took a seat across from him at the slightly unstable table.

"Hey Ritchie. Casey." Ash nodded to them both, and Casey was licking her fingers clean of her barbecue wings; she had so much to say, but had to wait until her hands were clear.

"I-" She smacked her lips. "Can't believe you finally put Misty in her place!"

Dumbfounded and a little awestruck, Ash blinked.

"...Excuse me?"

"Bi-polar and heartless was a nice touch—she's always walking around here like she owns the place, barking out commands—bleh." Ritchie mocked, grinning at Ash.

However, Ash was completely stunned.

 _Right_. They weren't fans of Misty. That used to be part of their group motto. The only problem was that Ash had missed the majority of their group 'meetings' and seemed to have forgotten along the way that Misty was a detestable person. Actually; he almost couldn't believe he ever thought that about her.

Sure, she was angry and hard to handle but...

"She's not that bad." Ash threw out there courageously, but his lack of confidence only threw Ritche and Casey into a sleuth of laughter. Obviously thinking that Ash was joking.

That was until Tracey slammed his book shut, and approached the table where they were sitting. He put the book on the desk, and curtly nodded to Casey and Ritchie, who now, wouldn't make eye contact.

"Did you ever think that the reason that she always barks orders out at you is because you sit around gossiping about your co-workers instead of actively trying to make the police station a more respectable place?" Tracey reeled backwards, glaring at the two of them, and Ash by default. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

When Tracey left, the silence that hung in the tense air was suffocating.

"...Man...what a fun sucker." Casey muttered, but Ash found himself unbelievably embarrassed, and a little ashamed of the ordeal, and quickly excused himself from the table, as well.

So, once again, Ash found himself in the detective's unit, eating lunch in the dark. Alone. For the first time since he started working.

It was humbling, at the very least. While Misty was originally a person of great frustration, her lacking presence was undeniably the worst he felt in days. Funny, he didn't feel very hungry anymore. In fact, he sort of still felt queasy from the visit from the morgue, and after being scolded by Tracey, he felt absolutely hollow inside. With the unit all to himself, Ash kicked back in his seat, dropped his feet onto his desk, and ran his fingers over his face, and through his hair.

To think that he believed today was going to be a _good_ day. The only _good_ part about today was that at some point, it had to end.

However, he still had at _least_ four hours of hostile environment after Misty returned from lunch to look forward to, with no buffer. Gary and Paul were both off to some school event about public safety and drugs. Neither of them would be back until close to the end of the day, and by that point, Ash would probably already be burned alive by Misty's over-the-shoulder glares. Ice would grow from the ceiling around her desk because of her cold, unforgiving heart. Ash would be held up in a ball, watching the clock tick away.

Hopefully, she came back from lunch a little _less_ angry.

Shambling into the police station brought his attention back to the door—it was not the same tap of Misty's heels, but instead a sort of scurrying that forced Ash to open his eyes, and look.

Clemont rushed in, not even seeing Ash. He wore a blue jumpsuit, and his bright, blonde hair pointed up in several directions. Nearly tripping over his feet, he moved languidly until he took a seat on the ground in front of Misty's desk, opening his briefcase full of technological gadgets, and stirring Ash's wonder.

"...Uh, hello?"

Clemont practically jumped out of his skin. Watching as he fell, scampering to grab his lost gadgets, and adjust his glasses, he looked more like a crazed scientist then a computer technician.

"Hi. Sorry. _Hi_. I'll be done in a second, just running some regular maintenance." He bowed, straightened his round glasses, and Ash snickered at his lack of cool; breaking the tension.

"That's fine. Do what you need."

Clemont being there broke the gloom in the air, and Ash took that as a reason to get started on the cases he had outside of Bianca's. One of them was a missing persons, and a few from his home-area, Pallet Farms. Nothing amazing, but they were easy enough, he hoped. No dead bodies.

The yellow-haired man didn't bother to reply, too visibly uncomfortable with the situation. Off in his own little world, he plugged his tablet into Misty's computer, ran cords between the two while muttering under his breath and making tiny, squeaking noises—and honestly, the whole ordeal was really distracting. Before Ash could catch himself, he was staring narrowed eyed at Clemont again.

"So...what are you doing again?"

Clemont cleared his throat, looking up at Ash, then immediately looking back down. He was clumsy, and all over the place. He almost seemed uncomfortable in his own skin.

"You know... Technical garbage. Running virus scans, keeping the firewall up to date. That sort of boring stuff." When Clemont waved his hand as if telling Ash not to worry about it, the latter scoffed and said,

"Well, I don't think that's boring. Technology is pretty cool, you know."

The lanky, awkward movements stopped immediately, and Clemont looked both surprised, and stone faced at Ash. A little bit of excitement may have gone through his eyes, but that could have just been a reflection in his glasses.

"You think so?"  
"Sure!" Ash threw his arms up eagerly. Finally, someone to talk to. "After all, without it, I wouldn't be able to play pok-" Ash nearly fell over his words, nearly admitting that he still played a game designed for children, he face screwed up.

"Minesweeper."

Clemont's brows rose exceptionally high, while laughing at the raven-haired man.

"Minsweeper is pretty fun! It's like chess."

Ash laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "It sure is. _Really_ fun."

Now, the bumbling had stopped, replaced by a happier sounding hum—but Clemont was still so noisy while operating on Misty's computer, Ash couldn't get back to work. Usually he wouldn't be so distracted—but he was looking for a distraction. Ash was miserable today. Finally, he got up from his chair, and approached the technician.

"So...walk me through this." he feigned an interest, but Clemont didn't seem as eager to share what he was doing.

"Er...well, it's not really something I could walk you through. You see," he pointed to some switches and then touched his tablet, and a few codes went onto Misty's monitor, and Ash's head already hurt.

"I connected here, and turn on the power... from there, I'm on her main screen, and then it's all coding and software—it's not something I think I'm supposed to _show_ people."

"Well, I'm not a _people."_ Ash shoved him shoulder gently, an silly idea fluttering through his mind. "I'm Ash. A detective, and did you say you're on her desktop?"

"...Yes I'm on detective Waterflower's desktop."

As scrunched up his nose. "Do you think it would be possible to change her password?"  
"Her password? Pfft, that's easy."

Ash grinned devilishly, and Clemont's face finally went pale, realizing what he was meaning to do. Convince him to do.

"Anyways—I think we should.."

"Change her password, I agree!" Ash nudged into the conversation, taking the tablet out of Clemont's hands and sitting in her— _wow_ -her chair was really comfortable, it was like sitting on a pillow. Ash looked down at the maroon office chair, then back to Clemont who removed the tablet from his hands during his distraction.

"I'm not sure that you've ever seen her angry before, but-"

Ash waved him off with a huff.

"Oh, please. She's all bark and no bite. It'll be funny. C'mon, give it here."

"...no." Clemont argued, but then Ash raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"It's just a prank... but I see, you think she's too scary to involve in work-place shenanigans."

He hoped the word 'shenanigans' got him some brownie points, because Clemont started to sweat and look between the computer monitor, Ash, and the tablet. Eventually, and easier than Ash thought, he crumbled, and handed Ash the tablet, letting him change what he wanted.

"Don't change anything too big though..."

"Oh, _no_. Just a few things..."

And Ash got to work on his lunch break, snickering at how _brilliant_ he was.

 **XOX**

Lunch was unsuccessful. He ended up getting no extra work done, and probably put Clemont behind schedule. By the time he was working on the remaining computers that were scattered around the empty unit, as well as his own, Gary, and Paul's computers Misty returned with a fresh cup of coffee, and her hair tied back into another pony tail.

Her skin was glossy and her hair was wet as if she had just showered, and Ash would have bet money she went to blow off steam at the gym, but didn't ask. She seemed like the kind of person that would swim laps when she was angry. Once more, Misty didn't look over at him when she entered, instead, she plopped down at her desk, kicked off her heels and rubbed her temples with a heavy sigh; pretending like there weren't two, beady brown eyes staring up at her.

With a quick scowl, she shook off whatever was on her mind, and then carried on her business like she usually would. First putting aside her paper-cases, and then logging into her computer.

Immediately, she found the problem, and her eyes narrowed.

"Clemont."

The yellow-haired man snapped straight up and looked over at her, holding a screw-driver in his hand.

"Yes?"

"Why did you change my password?"

"I—uh...well.."

"I did." Ash interjected, raising his hand without fear. Misty's kind eyes that were held for Clemont turned venomous at Ash. He didn't buck though.

"How did you get onto my computer."

"I guessed your password, of course. I needed something off there." he pursed his lips. "Who picks their sisters names as a password, anyways?"

Now, she was scowling, seething in rage that insisted she was ready to commit murder herself, and yet he still didn't back down.

"Password hint: Who is the greatest detective that you know?" Misty read aloud, glare never leaving Ash. Even though he was sweating profusely and a mess on the inside, he was proud of his poker face as Clemont used that as his hint to retreat.

"You know you could get him in trouble for this, right?" her brow twitched

"You wouldn't do that to Clemont. Besides, it's an easy answer."

Already, she wanted to throw her computer, and keyboard, and possibly everything else that came with it. How dare he do this to her? It was written all over her face, how expressive she was—she should never play poker. Accepting the challenge, she exhaled angrily through her nose, and typed in what she _presumed_ was the answer three times; only growing _more_ frustrated when it wasn't the answer.

"What are you playing at?" Her voice sounded funny, childish, when she was so frustrated. "Are you not going to stop picking a fight until I stick my foot completely up your ass?"  
Ash broke away from her stare, locking his jaw to one side, and staring at his blank screen.

"Well, what did you type in?"

"I assumed you were pinning for attention and used _your_ name as the password."

Ash chuckled, grinning ear to ear. "I had no idea you thought so much of me!"

"What's the password, Ketchum?" She growled, her voice low and sinister, and he knew the game was over. Lucky him, she had no humor left in her bones. He dropped his shoulders, defeated by her anger and aired his fingers over his keyboard, unable to look at her for one reason or another.

"Try _your_ name."

He missed it. Too occupied pretending to look like he was busy, that he didn't see the anger drop like a skydiver. Shook, she did as he suggested, and since there wasn't an extreme level of hateful remarks made, frustrated huffs, or insults—he assumed that she managed to log in. However, she chewed on what to say next, mulling over her bitterness and aimlessly typing.

Then she stopped, closed her eyes and stilled her breath.

"You're not used to people being upset with you, are you?"  
"Upset? Yes." Ash nodded, then looked painfully honest. "Disappointed? No."

"I'm sorry about what I said. That I said anything at all to Dawn; I shouldn't have mentioned the case and I wish that I hadn't. I think I was just trying to look cool and did the complete opposite. I don't think you're heartless, or bi-polar—and even if you are, that's okay. You have a temper, everyone does-!" While he rambled, Misty gave him a _look_ : her eyelids were lowered, her mouth was drawn to one side in a smirk, and her brows were somewhere between impressed and agitated.

"It's okay. We all make mistakes." her voice was smooth, forgiving. It disoriented Ash and he sat up. "besides, Dawn was probably just playing with you."

"Thank-wait— _what_?"

At that, all of her frustration was seemingly gone, replaced by a devious grin and pursed lips. She leaned on her hand. "Dawn likes to toy with the new detectives."

Ash sat back, his shoulders hit the back of the chair, and he had so many questions at once, he wasn't able to form a coherent sentence out of a single one. When Misty finally smiled, it was like someone punched him in the gut.

She winked; "but thanks for the compliment."

"So you weren't mad?" He whined, brows knit tightly.

"Oh..." She smiled, her voice pitching strangely again. "I could have _killed_ you this morning, but that apology was sweet."

Again, he felt sick to his stomach and leaned forward. "What do you mean she likes to _toy_ with the new detectives?"

"Don't worry about it." Misty rejected his question, but it was his turn to be frustrated, with a knot in his throat.

"So I didn't actually soil the precinct's name and give out wrong information?"  
"Man, heavens no. You totally screwed that up." She laughed at the irony of his question. His confusion was funny, apparently. "Because of you, I've been in conference calls with Jenny and the LIA insisting that we don't need help with the TF murder case from their major crimes department all day, and that any drug related problems are being maintained to the best of our ability."

Ash blinked, he couldn't tell if she was happy, or so stressed out, she was breaking at the seems. "So...what happens if the LIA get involved?"

"They will probably shut us down completely. We're out of a job, and _they_ come in and build the place back from the ground up themselves. We would probably go back to being street cops, and everything we've worked for will be replaced by other companies."

Ash blinked a few times, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but Misty continued to speak anyways.

"Jenny wants us to work the major cases vigorously not because there aren't a ton of Bianca's out there, Ash, but because this entire department is hanging by a thread with the LIA breathing down our necks to make sure we can still be a trustworthy, effective department. Any more screw ups, and that's it."

"I...I didn't know."

"Yeah, well, we haven't wanted to tell the new staff. Nothing speaks motivation like risk of losing your job."

"So...what you said earlier about Bianca's case..."

Misty didn't say anything else, but Ash felt relief wash over him. This was a mess, the entire situation, but at least he understood why.

"Wouldn't it be easier to catch the guy with the LIA's help, though?"  
"They don't see it that way. It _would_ be easier if we had their resources, but they think that if we need to rely on that, we're not doing our job here."  
Ash wanted to say that was stupid, but before he could get another word out, the unit doors flew open, and Gary stormed in, covered in... in... something.

Syrup?  
"Oh, c'mon, it was a school prank!" Ash recognized that voice, that blue-haired devil sounding voice that lured him into a trap. His shoulders rose defensively, and his eyes turned wide at the door where Paul entered calmly behind Dawn, who was wearing a suit-jacket and slacks.

"You filmed it!"  
"Not that it matters—you broke my camera!" Dawn fired back, "And expensive camera!"  
Gary turned, raised his finger at her, but when he saw Ash ad Misty gawking at him, he fluffed out his stained shirt, and licked his lips.

"Excuse me." He brushed past them, and into the washroom in the corner. Ash watched his feet skid across the floor, sticking grossly to the wood, and then looked back up, horrified at Dawn who had her arms crossed, her hip tilted and lips puckered.

Misty sat back in her chair, looking her up and down while Paul lifelessly plopped down at his desk, and went on with his business as if his partner hadn't just ran in here covered in sticky, brown fluid.

"Weren't you on vacation?" Misty asked, holding a pen to her lips.

Dawn chirped at the sound of the red-head. "Vacation? _Please_ I spent the entire time on set with people in Sinnoh City, and man, are they wound up tight."  
Betrayed, Ash looked between them until deep blue eyes cornered Ash, with a devious grin.

"Well, _hey_ , if it isn't my favorite new detective?"  
"What did you do to Gary?" _And why was she allowed to hang out back here—_ Media should not have been allowed past the front door!

"Me?" Dawn flipped her hair over her shoulder, walking calmly to Ash's desk, and sitting on the edge of it, smiling at him. "I didn't do anything, the kids at the elementary school had a small mistake during their science experiment."

"By that, she means they tipped over the homemade root-beer they were trying to make while we spoke with a teacher for a follow up investigation. It spilled on Detective Oak, who started swearing at the children."

Misty stifled a chuckle, but Ash scoot away from Dawn.

"...why were you there?"  
"I was waiting for my lunch date with my boyfriend."

Ash's head tilted thirty degrees, he scoot back again, hitting the wall and rattling the blinds.

"...your boyfriend is a teacher?"

Dawn scoffed again, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. "Of course not!"

She pointed at Paul, and smiled. "I'm dating Paul, silly."

Ash didn't mean to respond by choking, but he did, and he had to hammer his chest with a balled fist to get the air back. He winced several times, then looked at her.

"W-what?" this was all too much to take, luckily, Misty was already standing to escort her out of the building.

"Alright, alright. It's time to go. You know the drill: you're invading government property and disrupting our work; you've also disclosed bias and untrue information that could harm all parties involved, so I have to ask if you're going to have lunch with Paul, you do it in the lobby before closing hours."

Dawn puffed up her cheeks while Misty edged her out of the room without touching her, it was quite the act. At the door, however, Dawn turned and waved at Ash.

"I got your email, by the way—so there's no need to worry! I took care of it."  
Ash's brows furrowed even more, and he glanced over at Paul, who hadn't wavered in the slightest, then back to Misty who shut the door, and returned to her desk. He felt like he had a stroke, or a bad slice of cake.

"What the hell just happened?"

Smirking in return, she sipped her coffee, and let the question settle in the air before Gary burst out of the washroom, looking like a wet dog—but clean.

"I'm never getting these stains out of my clothes."

"Wait until you get blood on them." Paul fired back immediately.

"He'd have to clean up the blood _and_ the vomit, in that case." Misty tacked on, raising her cup while Gary fumed at the two of them.

"This is work place harassment, and I don't have to deal with this!" he shouted, struggling to put his wet jacket back over his shoulders as he stormed away, possibly going home for the day.

Both Paul and Misty snickered, but Ash questioned what kind of circus act he walked in on. He stared at Misty for answers, but she never provided any. At least the air was thinner now, and he could breathe again.

 **XOX**

About ten minutes to six, Misty returned from the last meeting of the day. She stretched her arms out, and long removed her jacket, showing off her royal blue, silk blouse. Her neck ached, and her head was pounding; when she returned to her desk, she wasn't surprised that Ash was gone for the day.

For the little trouble-maker that he was, he at least had a good heart; as he proved time and again. He always had his heart in the right place, but now if she could figure out how to channel that into better police work, she'd be set.

He was a bit clumsy, unlike Gary. He tended to drag his feet, and scared too easily. When he thought he was doing _well_ he was very bright and shining—but when he messed up, he couldn't get himself together again.

Bianca was one of many women they would lose on the force, and no matter how much they tried; they could not protect them all. More than anything, Misty had a bad feeling about the nature of the events, but when Jenny passed the case off as a 'pre-mature cold case' early that morning, after reading the article Dawn wrote, Misty didn't have the heart to tell Ash. She dragged him through the morgue process to see if he could manage, and he reacted about as well as she thought that he would: _horribly_.

Honestly, she didn't know how long Ash could stay in this kind of work if he took every case so personally. She prayed he would learn to distance himself from the job someday. Part of her felt terrible for being so hard on him.

"Hey—You are still here." Ash chanted, coming around the corner. Somewhere, he ditched his tie and jacket, and raced back around to greet her, holding a folder in his hand.

"I went after lunch to some of those destroyed cabins and took pictures—the last one we were in was disturbed. Look here," and he began showing her pictures of the place, and how it changed. Misty bit the inside of her lip, while he explained why it was important, and felt herself die a little.

"That could have been a wild animal, Ash. We didn't seal the door when we left."

"Yeah, but why would a wild animal be looking for garbage?"

Misty inhaled, and shrugged. "...I guess."

"Oh, I also went back to the hospital and reviewed some of the witnesses and scouted around the fence line where that guy disappeared—I used a prop to show a shadow in the position of the shadow that we saw—and the construction guys there confirmed that they haven't started building on that side, so there couldn't have been any obstacles there to recreate the same shadow that we saw-"

"-Ash." She finally stopped him, waving her hand. "Have you worked on anything else today?"

His shoulders slumped slightly, a little confused why she would ask that. "Well... not really. I did a few errands and..."

"Did you open any of your other case files?"

The way he stared up at her with those guilty, big, brown eyes made her insides feel like mush. She felt the need to be kind, but she had to be firm. In every way, she was still his superior officer, and he was a novice detective.

"I know how important this case is to you, but you can't focus on a single one. You have to use your time wisely."

Ash shifted uncomfortably. Criticism wasn't what he was expecting, apparently. "I just have a bad feeling about this; that there was way more here than just an accident. Bianca was normal up until a few years ago and there are still a ton of unanswered questions like who that guy was running from—who Bianca was running from..."

"Maybe her dealer? Maybe she bit off more than she could chew and tried to get out. Maybe she fell into the wrong crowd. The point is we don't know, and we can't speculate over a girl who...who isn't here anymore."

Ash huffed, and Misty continued. "There are other people that need our help, and until we have more evidence, you have to focus on more than one case." She held out the documents she removed from his desk, and handed them to him.

"I'm sending you home with homework. I want these prepared by tomorrow morning so we can open investigations assigned by Jenny, Ketchum."

Ash frowned again, he knew he was in trouble when she used his last name, and he begrudgingly took the folders from her, and tucked them under his arm.

"...Sorry." He turned away, prepared to grab his things when Misty exhaled, and held out her hand.

"Fine. Let me see your notes."

Grinning, Ash practically tossed them at her, and she shook her head. He was like a grown child. She would look them over when she got home, check again if they missed anything—if they could link the time frame to any other active cases—she would see if they could do _something_ before she crushed him with Jenny's refusal to green-light the case.

As they grabbed their bags, and the over-night workers shuffled in with their coffees and baggy eyes, Ash followed Misty out of the building. The evening air was crisp, the orange hues in the sky reflecting the setting sun reminded him of how much time he spent at the police station. He was here at sunrise, and home by sundown. Someday those hours would be more normal than before he dedicated his life to the force.

He glanced at Misty, whose anger from that morning had long sense faded.

"So... what's up with Dawn?"

She knew the question was going to come up at some point, so she wasn't surprised.

"Dawn's the reporter that help me bust Red last year. She's a pain in the ass, but she _means_ well... most of the time." Misty said nonchalant, her eyes were occupied by something in the distance, wrestling leaves on trees. She never looked at anyone when she mentioned Red, it was like a scar she couldn't get rid of.

Ash pursed his lips. "So... are you guys friends?"

"No. We went to college together though."

"Really?" He sounded skeptical, forcing her to roll her eyes. "So...how did...how does... Paul and Dawn?"  
Misty stopped at the end of the steps, staring at him and blinking with a curious expression. "I don't pry into my co-workers personal lives."

Awkwardly, he rubbed his neck—something he did often when he was embarrassed or anxious. Perhaps a nervous tick. He also tended to rub his nose when he was proud of himself. Her brows rose when he crossed his arms.

"...right. Anyways, see you tomorrow, I guess."  
"Yeah." She waved over her shoulder at him, unlocking her car with a button. "Don't forget to fill out those documents. I don't want to have to explain to Jenny why we're falling behind on cases."

"Yeah _yeah_." he grumbled loudly, rushing to get into his red, rusted truck. When he disappeared inside, she dared to turn around, and watch as he fired up the engine, and it produced a fair amount of smoke. Out of all the vehicles in the lot, his was the only one that looked like it was picked up directly from an auto-wreckers lot. It stuck out.

Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head, looking down at the pile of notes that he created for Bianca.

 _Just like he did_.

 **XOX**

Ash swung by the library before going home; curious about the article Misty referenced before, he didn't waste any time getting away.

She hadn't lied, Dawn, under the pen name "Hikari" wrote about every criminal activity that Red participated in; him, and the rest of the police station. It was her persistent articles that flagged the LIA to do an internal investigation that ended up putting Red, and the rest of the crooked officers in jail for years. At the time, Red was still under trial—assuming because of his rank in the system. Learning more about the entire situation would have been easier, but approaching Misty with questions was anything _but_ easy.

Just recently, right around the time Ash started, Hikari released a article defining what happened in the court room; successfully putting Red away for twenty-five years, to life. He was found guilty on all charges. Apparently, it was Misty's testimony that did him in time and again.

Ash couldn't imagine how hard that would be.

He also couldn't figure out why Dawn, who typically wrote accurate, informative, and detailed articles on not only the KCPD, but also on fashion trends and celebrity gossip, would run his name in the mud? Misty said she was only having fun, but that shouldn't have involved the police station at all... maybe it was a lesson, more than anything else. If this was a more serious investigation, or if Ash had known more than he did—who would have stopped him from telling the entire story?

Ash believed that people needed to know what was happening in the city, but he also believed the should only know what isn't going to scare them; especially not wrong information.

Maybe it was a test?

Ash looked down at the printed article he saw time and again of Misty, Jenny, and Paul standing right outside of the police station, with the hand-cuffed, former lead-detective, Red. Misty was watching the ground, she looked ashamed in that picture; and Ash couldn't blame her.

Even though Red was _wrong_ , he couldn't imagine how it must have felt to turn on someone who was a friend, and a partner. He and Misty didn't always get along, and he didn't know her that well—but he could never imagine doing that to her—or anyone, for that matter. Not even Gary.

Maybe Ash expected too much good from people.

Throwing open his truck door and shutting off the engine, he practically fell out of the drivers door.

Ash was exhausted as he dragged his feet to the entrance of his house, where he could already smell his mom cooking dinner while Pikachu waited at the door, wagging his tail. As usual, she left the door unlocked for him, and he swung it open, to meet directly with teary blue eyes, he almost fell backwards.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" May rushed him, but Brock was there to hold her back.

Startled, he looked around, completely stunned by the affront.

"Tell you what?"

"Bianca was my friend!" She screamed loudly, and Ash could tell this wasn't a new thing, even Delia looked on with worried eyes. He wanted to ask how long May has been here—but only one problem could be solved at a time.

"You knew her?"

"We went to school together my senior year, after you graduated." she hiccuped, not thinking clearly. Brock shrugged apologetically at Ash.

"Why wouldn't you tell me!?" May lashed away from Brock, shoving Ash, practically knocking him back outside. Brock tried to pull her back, but couldn't manage. Ash had never seen May this upset, but he didn't back down.

"I can't tell you everything, May! It was an ongoing investigation—I'm sorry if that upset you!"

"But you told a news reporter?" May gasped

"On accident!" As if that made it better. "She goaded me for information and it slipped out because she was at the hospital after it happened. I didn't know she was a reporter."

"Oh, that's rich. You can't trust one of your best friends, but you can tell someone you don't even know!"

Ash was about to retaliate, raise his finger, defend himself—but there was no point. There was no rationalizing with someone when they were as upset as May. She needed to calm down before they could talk within reason. Ash threw up his hands.

"I've had enough crap today! I don't need this from you, too! Talk to me when you've calmed down!"

Without thinking, Ash turned and jogged down the long path outside of his mom's house, taking in the cold breeze. As he ran, Pikachu followed after him with a bark, and somehow Brock managed to pull May back inside, because the light turned out. He really hoped that she would be okay, but he would only make things worse right now... and honestly, he wasn't sure he could handle her unbridled anger today, after dealing with Misty all morning.

When Ash stopped, it was at the stretch of a long farm, looking down a hillside that lead into the main portion, where at least a dozen farms were accumulated. His house was located on the edge of the town-like portion of Pallet Farms, since his mom worked at a restaurant there. Not a lot really happened out here, so when he plopped down on a rock, and Pikachu skidded to a playful stop and laid in front of Ash for belly-rubs, he sighed in agreement.

"Thanks for coming with me." He spoke, scratching the animal's stomach, then behind his ears. "You know, buddy, I wonder if my dad ever felt like it was all too much?"

"I'm sure if he was here, he would laugh at my predicament. Probably already would have solved the case..." hearing the sadness in Ash's voice, Pikachu sat down, lowered his ears, and titled his head affectionately. Then, the fluffy dog rubbed his jaw against Ash's hand in comfort and Ash offered his best smile.

Pikachu would be too young to remember, but it was right here, a year after his dad died on April first, that his mother brought him the golden retriever. No matter how upset Ash was, or how crazy life became; the dog never left his side. He couldn't explain in words how much he felt Pikachu could understand, but when Ash sat down on the dirt to hug Pikachu; the only person that really needed to understand was himself.

When times got hard, he always had at least one friend that never turned on him. Never in a million years. When Ash pulled away, Pikachu planted an affectionate lick on his owners face that left a line of slobber that Ash wiped away with his sleeve, laughing.

"Gross." he grumbled, letting Pikachu lay beside him while they both sat, watching the stars.

How many nights did he sit under this sky, in this exact spot, praying that he would become a detective? Ash lost count somewhere around one-hundred. When he was growing up, it was all he could talk about, how he was going to be the very best, and save just as many people as his dad did; in fact, he was going to save more.

Only now, he didn't feel much like a hero, and he hadn't for a few days. Misty didn't need to say it, but he knew that Bianca's case wasn't going to be picked up—and maybe it was knowing that, that made him run from May.

He didn't have answers for her or himself. So he ran.

Maybe if he was lucky, the TF murders would be linked to Bianca... maybe if May knew a bit more about Bianca, they could pinpoint her last locations.

Snapping awake, Ash perked up, and fished his cellphone out of his pocket.

Not-too-surprisingly, Misty answered right away.

"What's up?"

"I, uh..." His confidence dwindled, he didn't actually expect her to answer as quickly as she did. "I...I know you said to focus on those other investigations, _and I will_ , but..."  
He paused again, for a long time. Pikachu's tail wagged upon hearing Misty's voice in the distance, but Ash had to pull the phone away from his ear, because her voice was followed by a major crash, and several lines of swearing.

"Sorry, I dropped my phone. What were you saying?"  
Curiously, Ash furrowed his brows. "What are you doing?  
"I got the bright idea to try and cook, but, that's not going so well so I'm probably having pizza again."

Ash strangled a laugh while she huffed in frustration.

"I can't cook, either."

"Well _you_ don't have to. Your mom cooks, right? And Brock?"

"Actually-" Ash scoffed, trying to think of a good comeback, but when he had none he said; "The doors always open if you want _real_ food."

Ash immediately shut his mouth, but apparently, he wasn't fast enough. The lingering silence was brutal, but thankfully, Misty was very good at keeping pace.

"Why did you call me again?"  
"I know you said to focus on other investigations—but what if we could meet with one of Bianca's old friends _before_ work tomorrow? It turns out May knew her."

"May knew her?"  
"They went to school together." Ash clarified quickly. "When May was a senior. So... right about the time Bianca disappeared initially."

Misty seemed intrigued by this bit of information, because she started scratching information down on a piece of paper.

"Which school? Does she know where Bianca's family is? What about her social media pages? Does she-"

"Whoa, hold on Mist-" he threw himself in there, missing the clear hiccup she had at the nickname. "I don't have answers for any of these yet... she was sort of upset when I got home."

"...oh?"

"She found out through that article Dawn wrote."  
Misty was really quiet for some time. "...so, did you learn your lesson?"

Frustrated, Ash huffed. "Did you and Dawn plan that?"

"I would never in a million years undermine my fellow police officers, even as a joke." Misty said abruptly, and very seriously. Ash tossed away any idea at that moment that Dawn and Misty plotted out his destruction, and smiled.

"So we will meet with May tomorrow before work. What time and where at?"

"Ahh..." Ash grimaced, he hadn't thought that far yet—or even asked May. Hopefully, she didn't hate him so much that he couldn't still ask her. To be sure, he started to walk back home while Misty was still on the phone.

"How about the Pewter Gem, around 6:00 am?" Ash blurted out, knowing that it was a place close to both of them, and the police station.

"Sure. Did you have anything else?"

"No, I think that was it-" She sounded like she was in a hurry, fanning something.

Concerned, Ash asked: "...are you okay?"

Then the smoke alarm went off, and more swearing followed.

"...Bye Misty." he half shouted into the phone, to which he heard a faint 'bye' and then she ended the call. He stared awkwardly at his phone.

He learned more everyday, didn't he?

 **Author's Note** :

I think I used the term "FBI" at some point in the story; but from now on, they're going to be known as the "LIA" (Leagued investigation agency) only because it feels weird to associate a real federal agency's name with a pokemon fanfic?

Not a lot happened this chapter, but some character development, and some foreshadowing, and some stuffs.

"puff" hahaha. I hope that isn't the name of something IRL. I got it from 'jigglypuff' and had a good laugh.

See you soon

NINT


End file.
